


More Than Just a Game

by AbsoluteUn1t



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora becomes a better person, Adora/Catra - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Background Spinnetossa, Bow Needs a Hug, Brief Catradora, Death, District 1 Adora, District 10 Rogelio, District 10 Scorpia, District 11 Netossa, District 2 Catra, District 3 Bow, District 3 Glimmer, District 4 Mermista, District 4 Sea Hawk, District 5 Entrapta, District 7 Perfuma, District 8 Kyle, District 8 Lonnie, District 9 Spinnerella, F/F, Flirty Catra, Flirty Catradora, Glimmer Needs a Hug, Horny Teenagers, Host Castaspella, How Do I Tag, Implied Sexual Content, Interviews, Lesbian Adora, Lesbian Catra, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Glimmer, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, POV Adora, PoV 3rd Person, Reality TV, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sparring, Tagging as I go, The Whispering Woods is the Arena, Training, Victor Angella, Victor Shadow Weaver, Violence, a lot of references to she-ra, catradora, its the hunger games - Freeform, mentions of manipulation, those are a hell of a series of tags to have there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsoluteUn1t/pseuds/AbsoluteUn1t
Summary: Adora has been training for eighteen years to volunteer for the Hunger Games, hoping to make her adoptive mother -- who just so happens to be a victor herself -- and the entirety of District 1 proud. But when Adora travels to the Capitol and meets the other tributes, she begins to question all that she’s been taught about the Games. Now, she’ll have to make the hardest choice of all: to fight and win like she’s always dreamed, or abandon all she’s ever known, even though it would mean certain death.Updates as often as possible!





	1. The Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of merged the Hunger Games universe with the She-ra one... so there are still twelve districts, but Panem is Etheria. Anything else will hopefully be explained in the fic.

Adora Lightspinner slumped into her chair, panting and sweating. She had been training for hours, as she did every morning before school. But today was different. Today was the day of the Reaping. She had taken out all her pent-up frustrations on the various punching bags and dummies in the basement, but as she stared up at the ceiling, her breath the only sound around her, her nerves came back.

She sat up. This was what she had trained for her whole life. She couldn’t back down now, especially with Shadow -- the headmaster at the Horde, who had practically raised her -- breathing down her neck, pressuring her to volunteer.  _ This is what you were trained for _ , Shadow had told her more times than she could count.  _ You’re destined for something great _ .

Adora had wanted to volunteer when she was seventeen, but Shadow insisted on one more year of training. “I didn’t volunteer until  _ I  _ was eighteen,” she had told her. “I want you to have as much experience under your belt as you can manage.”

“But what if another girl takes my spot?” Adora had fretted. “Once I’m eighteen, that’s my last chance. I can’t afford to lose it!”

But Shadow was known to be one to pull strings. Adora had no need to take tesserae, being from a career district, so she simply donated the extra tesserae she got, eager to put her name in more times. And she was sure Shadow had put her name in more than that,  _ somehow _ . And none of the other girls at the Horde seemed eager to volunteer this year. Adora was the only eighteen-year-old girl there, so the others gave the excuse of waiting one more year. But the Horde -- a training academy established in all three career districts -- was meant for the sole purpose of turning out tributes for the Games.  _ No, not just tributes _ , Adora told herself. Her heart fluttered, an eager smirk on her face.  _ The Horde turns out victors.  _

Shadow Lightspinner -- who preferred to go by the nickname she had earned in her Games year ago, Shadow Weaver -- had been a student of the Horde herself, and won the bloodiest Hunger Games anyone in the nation of Etheria had seen in years. And she had served as Adora’s teacher for years.

Now was her time. Adora would shine for the entirety of District 1. She would bring them glory again, after losing to District 2 (and even the non-career districts) for six years.

“Adora!”

The shout startled her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump.  _ Shadow.  _ “C-coming!” She stuttered, stretching her sore muscles. She sprinted upstairs, to the main floor of the Horde building, where other fellow career students sat and talked, or ate in the kitchen. 

“You were training, weren’t you?” Shadow Weaver asked accusingly.

Adora knew there was no point in arguing. She winced, expecting a harsh reaction as she nodded slowly.

“Oh, Adora,” Shadow said, dragging out the “o” in the way only she did. “Go wash yourself up quickly. You’ll need to look your best when you become a tribute today.”

“Yes, Shadow,” Adora said.

“Go take a shower and pick out a dress. We leave for the Reaping very soon.”

“Yes, Shadow.”

 

. . .

 

After her shower, Adora rifled through her closet before finding a suitable outfit for the Reaping. Of course, she had dressed nicely  _ every  _ year since she was twelve, but this year was different. If everything went as planned, her face would be broadcast to the entire nation -- which meant she had to make an impression on her fellow tributes, and especially those from the Capitol who could be her future sponsors.

She ended up choosing a sleeveless red dress that reached below the knees, a soft, slightly transparent section of fabric running down the front, a brown belt straddling her waist. She pinned up her hair with a butterfly-shaped gold piece, admiring herself in the mirror. As she turned to leave her room, a newfound determination charged her steps.

When she reached the foyer again, Shadow leaned in to touch her face, since she couldn’t give Adora a kiss with her mask on. Adora had long since learned not to shy away from the touch. “Oh, my dear Adora, you look absolutely wonderful! I have a gift for you.”

“What?” Adora asked, slightly taken aback. Shadow had given her a multitude of gifts -- from letting her live at the Horde to all the clothes and money she owned -- but her voice had never sounded this sincere. Usually, it was dripping with false sweetness, a kind that Adora had a hard time making sense of. 

Shadow opened her hand, revealing a shining emerald badge emblazoned with an “H”. Adora took it carefully into her hands, running her fingers along the cold, smooth surface. Upon closer inspection, Adora noticed that one of the legs on the “H” was also a 1. “For District 1,” Adora said, looking up at Shadow. She smiled. “Thank you.” And pinned it to her dress.

“That’s going to be your tribute token in the arena,” Shadow told her. “Wear it on your clothes at all times. I want it to be your badge of victory when you win.”

“Thank you,” Adora said again, leaning in to give Shadow a hug--

Shadow pushed her away abruptly. “We best be going,” she said to the whole room.

The Horde academy building wasn’t far from the Justice Building, at which the Reapings were always held. Once they arrived, Adora filed herself into the eighteen-year-old section on the right with the rest of the girls of District 1. Shadow took the stage beside the other District 1 victors, of which there were many (despite District 1’s losing streak). Adora stood tall as the anthem began to play.

_ “War” _ , a voice said in the background of the broadcast as it sparked to life on the large holograms on the stage.  _ “Terrible war…”  _

It relayed the atrocities the districts perpetrated against their loving Capitol during the Dark Days. Adora swelled with pride when it mentioned  _ “honor, courage, and sacrifice…”  _ She would bring honor to District 1.

The Capitol escort took the stage after the holograms dimmed, their usage over for the evening. The old woman -- who everyone called Madame Razz -- had been the Capitol escort for District 1 since before Shadow Weaver had even been eligible for the Games. She tapped the microphone, adjusting her glasses. “Hello, District 1!” She said in her quivering voice. “Let’s meet our tributes, shall we?”

The crowd erupted into a burst of short-lived applause, dying out as soon as Madame Razz reached her hand into the bowl on the girls’ side.

“Adora Lightspinner!”

To everyone’s amazement, no one volunteered. Shadow must have pressured even girls outside of the Horde to keep their mouths shut.

_ This is it _ , Adora told herself, mind spinning, heart swelling as she stepped out into the aisle and mounted the stage, giving a large grin to Shadow Weaver.  _ This is my moment.  _ She stood tall and proud, puffing out her chest, badge gleaming in the sunlight.

“What a wonderful young woman!” Razz marvelled. “Now let’s see for the boys… Adam Mann!”

“I vol--” a boy began to say, but Adam had already mounted the stage, blue eyes glinting. He looked almost as proud as Adora to be there, and Adora knew why. 

“Nice to see you, Adam,” she said, stepping forward to shake his hand. He was also a student at the Horde. People had always told them they looked like they were related, but Adora just didn’t see it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll win for the both of us,” Adam teased as they turned to face the crowd, waving at them as applause thundered. It shook the ground, the very world. And it was for  _ her _ .

“Bold of you to assume you have a chance against me,” Adora snarked back.

“What a wonderful pair of tributes!” Razz said. “Now, come, you two. You’ll have a moment to say goodbye to your families.”

Adora’s smile faltered. “W-we don’t have families.”

Razz looked at her with big, teary eyes as they entered the Justice Building. “How sad… I’ll have to act as your family, then! At least, for the few days we have.”

Adora smiled. The people of the Capitol were even nicer than she had dreamed.

Since Shadow was a victor, she wasn’t allowed to come say goodbye to the tributes, so Adora and Adam were taken directly to the train. Adora gasped when she saw it. Shadow had described it to her before, since she rode it every year -- and even growing up in a career district, Adora had seen nothing like it.

“You were very good in front of the cameras, Adora,” Shadow told her, clasping her shoulder firmly with a pale hand.

“Oh, uhh, th-thank you, Shadow Weaver,” Adora stammered, still in awe at the luxury of the train… the piles of food on the table and the hologram TV by the window…

“Let’s get settled in, shall we?” Razz asked, plopping down in the couch in front of the hologram. “The Reaping broadcast! Oh, I can’t wait!” She flicked on the TV immediately.

Adora and Adam sat beside her, Adora stuffing her face with foreign Capitol food. After the announcers finished their introduction, Adora’s face was first to show up on screen. She felt a sudden and weird flush of embarrassment, but Shadow Weaver seemed absolutely thrilled.

“My star pupil… a tribute!” She gushed. Adora’s pride quickly returned.

Adora leaned forward when District 2 had its turn. The tributes from District 2 were notorious for winning the majority of the Games, said to have better training than Districts 1 and 4 (and especially the rest). Indeed, the girl from District 2 looked formidable. Her name was Catra, and she grinned to the cameras with one blue eye and one yellow. And were those…

“Claws?” Adora asked, leaning farther forward. The announcers did the work for her, zooming in on Catra’s hands.

“It seems someone’s eager for the Games!” They laughed. “Catra looks to have had her fingernails sharpened into  _ claws _ . I suppose we’ll have to wait for the interviews to know what that’s all about!”

Then came District 3. Though its tributes were known to be smart, since they worked primarily with technology, they were also usually incredibly weak and useless when it came to actual fights.

When the girl had her name called, she stood in place for what seemed like forever until Peacekeepers beckoned her forward. She was crying, wiping tears from her eyes when she reached the stage. Behind her, a woman screamed.

_ Angella _ . Adora recognized her. She had won a Games shortly after Shadow’s, at eighteen. Her and her lover had both been chosen; their months-old daughter left behind. It was one of the Capitol’s favorite Games; as Angella’s lover perished early on, infusing Angella with a new, deadly drive to return home to her young daughter. 

And now, her very own daughter had been reaped. The daughter she had fought so hard to protect. They embraced on the stage, the announcers commentating on the odds a victor’s child would have in the arena, and how coming from a non-career district would factor in. 

When the boy was chosen, the girl started to cry again. They seemed to know each other… judging by the way they embraced, and the boy laid a hand on her back, they seemed to be friends.

“District 3 surely has some interesting tributes this year!” An announcer quipped eagerly. “We’ll have to wait and see how Glimmer and Bow fare in the arena!”

After that, the other tributes became a blur. Mermista from District 4, who looked like she didn’t want to be chosen, though no one volunteered for her. An odd girl from District 5 named Entrapta. A girl from District 7 named Perfuma who began to cry as she mounted the stage, flowers in her hair… Kyle, from District 8, who looked deathly scared…

“Adora?”

Adora turned to Adam.

“Are you okay? It looked like you were going to cry.”

Adora blushed. “No! No I wasn’t.” She swore under her breath. She couldn’t let Adam think she was weak. That would make her a target later on when the careers had to start betraying each other.

“I just… need something to eat. I need to sit down. It’s been a busy day.”

“Adora,” Shadow Weaver started as Adora walked away. She followed Adora all the way to her room.

Adora furiously wiped tears from her cheeks. 

“You know you can tell me what’s wrong,” Shadow pressed. “After all, you need to have no doubts when you enter the arena. You need to be at your strongest.”

“I…” Adora shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to face Shadow. She ran her fingers over the silken sheets of her bed, watching landscapes rush past outside the window. “The tributes from 3… just got me a little.”

“Oh, I know, Adora. I’ve met Angella before, and she truly is a sweet woman. But her daughter, Glimmer, is your enemy. She’s from one of the other districts. With a mother like Angella, I’m sure she’ll be a formidable foe.”

“Yeah…” Adora agreed hollowly. She supposed Shadow Weaver was right. Adora had been raised by a victor, too; she knew what it was like. But maybe Angella was different… surely, being from a normal district, she wouldn’t see the glory of the Games, and would raise her daughter in fear of them… wouldn’t she? But then there was Glimmer’s friend, Bow… the two of them would definitely ally. Other alliances would threaten the stability of the careers’ alliance, surely. It would make weak tributes stronger with strength in numbers. Adora narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t let that happen. From now on, she would have to cast aside any sympathy she had for Bow and Glimmer. “I won’t let her win.”

“Oh good, good…” Shadow Weaver leaned down, sitting on the bed beside Adora, her face completely unreadable beneath her mask. “Just remember, Adora… when you’re in the arena, everyone else is your enemy. Starting today, all twenty-three of those tributes are your enemies. And when you get to the arena, all that matters is you. No one else. Not even Adam.”

She leaned in closer, taking Adora’s chin into a vice grip. “All that matters is  _ you _ , and making  _ me  _ proud.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver,” Adora vowed, her determination returning. “I won’t let you down.”


	2. Hey, Adora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I'll probably be able to update this with new chapters around every 2-4 days. I'm sorry if it takes awhile, but thank you for reading it so far!
> 
> Also, if you came for Glimadora: don't worry, it will show up later. I couldn't resist a little Catradora in the beginning...

Adora turned to finally look at herself in the mirror. Her stylists had taken forever to dress her in her costume, adding a winged tiara with shining gold ribbons to the top of her head, giving the illusion that her hair was longer than it actually was. Her parade outfit had a white bodice and skirt, with gold filigree on the middle of the chest, and solid gold pieces that narrowed to sharp points out over her shoulders, matching gold sleeves extending from her elbows to a narrow point on the back of her hands.

Though Adora was not one for skirts, especially when it came to being on chariots (not that she’d been on one before, but she imagined there would be quite a bit of wind), she gasped when she saw herself. Her eyes looked bluer and brighter than usual; the Capitol stylists had put gold dust on her skin that made her look like she was emitting light.  She looked like a princess.

But not just any kind of princess.

“A warrior princess,” she gasped, twirling.

“We’re so glad you like it!” her stylists gushed. “Now, remember--”

“Smile and wave,” Adora finished for them. They nodded. She guessed her stylists were either new to the job altogether or that they had been transferred from working for a non-career district for District 1, for they all seemed stunned at her eagerness. But they all adored her.

“Now, let’s head out to the pavillion,” they said. 

Adora followed them out of the building and into the largest open space she had ever seen. Even the square before the Justice Building back in District 1 was smaller than this. Stands on either side were filled to the brim with eager Capitol citizens, President Hordak himself in the stands in the center, standing before a podium, his young son restless beside him. The tributes would ride through the aisle and make a circle before the president, pausing for his speech, before leaving the pavillion. It was a brief affair, really, but commentators and even normal citizens -- even in the districts -- talked about it all the time during the days before training scores were released to the public.

The chariots were currently nestled into an alcove where the Capitol citizens couldn’t see them. As soon as Adora stepped out into the light, a Capitol man came rushing for her. “Good, District 1,” he addressed her not with her name, but her district. “What are you doing? You’re needed in your chariot immediately. In case you’ve forgotten, yours is the first to go!”

“Yes sir!” She answered curtly, running to the golden chariot in the lead, its trained horses standing still before it. She gasped when she saw one of them in particular, a horse with a coat so white he looked like he was made of snow.

“Adora, you can befriend the horse later,” Adam called down to her from his spot in the chariot. 

“Right, right,” she laughed, taking her place beside him. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“The horse or the parade?”

She elbowed him. “The  _ parade _ , dummy. But Horsie is wonderful, too.”

“I wonder what people will think of our warrior theme,” Adam mused to her. Indeed, he too was dressed in a warrior-like outfit, though his was silver, and his top was fashioned to reveal his muscular build.

“I bet they’ll like it. Being from the luxury district, I knew there was almost no way they’d mess up our costumes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see what District 2’s costumes have to do with masonry,” Adam said with a chuckle.

Adora looked back at the chariot behind her, where both the tributes from 2 stared off into the distance pensively. That was the difference between the two best districts’ tributes: District 2 took the Games too seriously. At least District 1 knew how to have a little fun. Then the girl, Catra, caught her eye.

Adora blushed, much to her dismay. Catra grinned, as if she knew exactly why. Adora hated to admit it, but Catra was… attractive. Even though she was dressed in a silly red headpiece with fake cat ears, her brown hair seemingly spiked. Brown stripes a few shades darker than her skin had been drawn on her arms, her “claws” painted black. And, when she had smirked, Adora swore she had fangs. Adora hadn’t given too much thought to her fellow tributes’ appearances at the Reaping, more focused on how big of a threat they’d pose to her. In person, Catra was quite the heartthrob, in a slightly threatening way.

_ Well, the cat theme sure fits her…  _ Adora spared a glance back at Catra, who was now talking to her fellow tribute, who was dressed as a lion.

“At the ready, tributes!” Someone called, stepping in front of the chariots. He did a signal, and the horses started to saunter out of the alcove, into the burning light of the setting sun and the crisp air of the Capitol.

Adora’s heart fluttered. She felt that weird, sudden embarrassment had had when seeing her face on screen, this time amplified. At the Reaping, all she had to do was smile and shake Adam’s hand… here, she had to smile and wave and hope she made a good impression, which costumes weighed in on heavily. Some stylists ended up being their tributes’ popularity downfall by giving them horrible costumes.

Adora took a deep breath, steadying herself, gripping tighter to the railing of the golden chariot. She was a warrior. A beautiful, six-foot-tall warrior princess from District 1, the shiniest district from Etheria. And she was going to win over the Capitol with her charm.

_ For District 1 _ , she told herself as the crowd began to roar, the anthem blaring in the background.

_ For Etheria _ , she added, waving to the crowd and smiling her best charming smile.

_ For myself _ . She caught a single red rose in her hand, blushing up to her ears, heart pounding. People already loved her.

_ For Shadow Weaver _ , she added,  _ most importantly of all _ .

“Dis-trict 1! Dis-trict 1!” A few people in the crowd started chanting. There were groups in the Capitol who favored certain districts over others. When Adora’s chariot reached that part of the crowd, she blew a kiss to them. They went absolutely wild.

Before she knew it, her chariot came to a stop, right before the president’s podium. She craned her head up to look at him as he surveyed the tributes with blank judgement. Finally, the District 12 chariot came to a halt, the anthem fading out as Hordak spoke, his face filling every screen.

“Welcome, all of Etheria,” he started in his deep, menacing voice. “Welcome to another year of the Hunger Games, where we celebrate our unity.” His gaze turned down to the twenty-four children below him, his eyes flickering to each. Adora felt his eyes pierce her, but she held steady. “We thank you for your honor, your courage, and your sacrifice. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

The anthem started again in a flurry of trumpets, and the chariots were off, back around the loop and to the alcove at the end of the pavillion. Adora waved at the crowd one last time, casting her rose to the group chanting for her district. A young boy caught it and raised it high for all to see. The cameras gave a shot of him, then Adora’s bashful yet pleased expression.

Back in the alcove, Adora’s nerves finally lowered.

“You sure did a good job,” Adam remarked to her, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m going to go find Shadow Weaver.”

Adora barely had time to thank him before he ran off. She stood there for a moment, realizing just where she was and what had just happened.

She was here, in the Capitol.

She was a tribute.

She was going into the Hunger Games in a matter of  _ days _ .

Then a winny caught her attention. She gasped with joy. “Horsie!” She hopped from the chariot, rushing to the horse’s side. She began to stroke his soft coat, so entranced by the majesticity of the creature that she didn’t notice the catlike steps approaching her.

“Hey, Adora,” said a rough, sultry voice.

Adora turned, her heart stopping. It was Catra. Leaning against the District 1 chariot. Talking to her as if they were lifelong friends.

“How do you know my name?”

“Well, it’s not like it was said out loud for the whole nation at the Reaping.”

“Still, funny you’d remember,” Adora teased, hiding her blushing face by directing all attention to petting Horsie. Of course,  _ she _ remembered  _ Catra’s _ name -- and Glimmer’s and Bow’s -- but of course she wouldn’t let Catra know that.

“Well, I’m sure everyone in all of Etheria will know your name soon,” Catra said casually, examining her claws. “It’ll be easy for a people pleaser like you to get sponsors.”

Adora bristled. There seemed to be something caustic in Catra’s tone. “I’m not a people pleaser,” Adora snapped. She turned to Catra, her blush now gone. “You just came over for a little chat?”

“Of course,” Catra replied smoothly. “After all, we  _ are  _ both careers. You know, training starts tomorrow.”

Adora quirked a brow. “And?”

Catra smiled mischievously, looking Adora up and down in a way that made Adora blush again. “And, in training, I want to see if you’re actually any good at fighting. Wouldn’t want someone on my team who’s all sparkle, no substance.” She laughed a little, then cocked her head almost curiously, mismatched eyes glinting. “Not that you look bad in sparkles.”

Adora was at first taken aback by the comment.  _ Is she…  _ complimenting  _ me?  _ Her nerves flared again, leaving her speechless. “You want me on your team?”

“Like I said: only if you’re not all sparkle, no substance. And careers usually team up to begin with.”

Adora had, of course, considered who she would ally with in the arena, but hadn’t had much chance to size up the other tributes yet. She expected to make it into the career pack, but… Catra was trying to play it cool, but it almost seemed like she was begging Adora to work together.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” Adora challenged. “Make sure you’re not all hiss no bite.”

“You mean all bark?”

“Well, uh, you have the cat theme and all, so I thought--” Adora started sheepishly.

Catra poked her gently in the forehead, giggling. “Man, you guys down in District 1 are hilarious. But just so you know, princess, I’m not the only one you should be worried about here.” She pointed behind her to all the other tributes, who were standing with their mentors and stylists, or talking amongst themselves like Catra and Adora. But other conversations seemed stilted and nervous. The other careers were glancing at the two girls, but in a casual way. But what caught Adora’s eye the most was the way non-career tributes looked at her. Perfuma immediately shifted her gaze, flower petals falling from her hair as she turned. Scorpia sauntered over to the career tributes, but when she looked at Adora, a curious look appeared in her eyes. Entrapta seemed to be observing people from her chariot, welding mask propped high on her head.

But then there was Glimmer and Bow. They stood close together, lights twinkling in their hair, no doubt to represent the gadgets made in their home district. Bow nudged Glimmer’s shoulder, and she shifted to look at Adora. But instead of becoming fearful, her eyes narrowed. Suddenly, the classic roles were reversed: instead of a normal tribute scared of a career, Adora was infused with an odd fear of the girl of District 3. Bow whispered something to Glimmer, she nodded, and they walked off.

“None of the other tributes seem to like how popular you are,” Catra warned, sounding oddly sincere.

Adora felt a sudden wave of shame wash over her, but she quickly battled it back. “They’re just jealous that the crowd likes me,” she reasoned out loud. 

“Not scared you’ll kill them?”

“Well -- of course that too--”

“Anyway, I’d watch out if I were you, warrior princess,” Catra said, walking away backwards. Adora smiled at her, amused, despite their discussion topic. “You’re gonna need some good allies when the Games begin.”

“I won’t let you down,” Adora told her, then chastised herself. She was so used to making promises like that to Shadow Weaver, it came all too naturally to her.

Catra laughed again. “You’re funny, Adora.” After she had made it halfway to the building entrance with the other District 2 tribute and her mentor, she called back, “oh! And by the way, your tiara is ridiculous!”

“Hey!” Adora called, oddly offended. She crossed her arms. Catra sure was an odd one. A cute, odd one who could definitely kill her.

_ Exactly _ , she told herself.  _ You shouldn’t be making friends with her.  _ But then another voice countered:  _ then why did flirting with her come so naturally to you?  _

Adam suddenly showed up behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Hey, Adora! You ready to go back? We get the first floor since we’re District 1. No stairs!”

“They have elevators, Adam.”

“Still. Also, Shadow Weaver wants to talk to us about our performance.”

Adora sighed. “Alright.” As she walked back to the building, she caught one more sight of Glimmer, who glared at her again. Adora turned away. Why did she get an odd sense of guilt, or sadness, or  _ something  _ when she saw Glimmer and Bow? 

The sight of Shadow Weaver brought back the promise she had made only hours before. And she remembered: no matter how cute and flirtatious, Catra was an enemy. No matter what new and odd feelings the tributes from 3 gave her, they were still enemies.

Enemies, not friends.  _ I want to be nice to them, but I can’t.  _

_ Because I may have to kill them.  _

But she still grinned at the thought of training tomorrow, imagining the look on Catra’s face when she saw Adora use a sword.


	3. Doubt

The training quarters took up the entirety of the basement of the training building. Eager to do something so familiar, Adora woke early and was the first in the main training room. Gamemakers were notably absent from their glass box high up on one of the metallic walls, the room had an eerie quiet to it. Dummies were propped up at one station, survival skills at others, scattered about the large room. Adora really had no need to train in any fighting or survival skills at all, due to her intense training back in District 1.

Adora clicked armor pads onto her chest and arms, meandering over to the combat station. She figured a trainer would be there soon to help her, but for now, she was perfectly content to beat up a punching bag, something that had always helped her wind down.

After she had successfully pummeled a punching bag, a noise from the large doors told her that the elevator had dropped down. She turned, just in time to see Catra walk through, yawning, the rest of the careers on her tail. It would be typical for all the careers to show up, but most of them only did it to show off and intimidate the other tributes.

Surprisingly, however, the District 3 tributes showed up not a moment later. They were dressed in the issued training clothes, like all the other tributes: a tight-fitting black t-shirt and pants, with their district number below the shoulder on both arms and on the chest, and laced-up leather boots. The two clung close together, surveying the training room and whispering about what they should do first. Bow noticed Adora staring, and she bristled, expecting him to nudge Glimmer and alert her. But he didn’t, only averting his gaze.

“Hey, Adora!” A now-familiar rough voice called out to her. She turned, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, 2,” she said, hoping it hadn’t come out flirty. But judging by Catra’s expression, it did.

Catra narrowed her name-fitting eyes. “So, ready to fight?”

“What?” Adora laughed nervously. “I thought we weren’t allowed to do that until the arena.”

“No one here would care,” Catra pointed out. She yawned again, rubbing her eyes, picking up a metal staff from a rack of weapons. “Well, Princess Warrior, pick your weapon.”

“Catra, I seriously don’t think we should do this--” Adora protested, to which Catra poked her in the forehead teasingly again, before walking over to an empty space on the training floor.

“Seriously, Adora?” She teased, striking up a stance, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You’re here to kill people and you’re worried about _rules_? Come on, it’ll be a harmless fight.”

Though she knew she shouldn’t break the rules, Adora knew Catra had a point. It did seem a little weird to worry about a harmless fight when lives were literally on the line in a few days. And, the idea of showing off fired up her blood. So, she rolled her eyes playfully, though a certain danger lurked behind it. She knew she was good, and she wanted Catra to know that too.

“You should be grateful I can’t pick a sword for this,” she said, voice reeking of confidence.

“And why not?”

“I wouldn’t want to actually hurt you.” She picked up a staff, throwing Catra some armor pads. “Yet.”

They stood fifteen feet apart. Adora wondered if Catra’s heart was pounding as fast as hers, the anticipation getting the better of her. A quick glance around the room let Adora know that they had an audience: Adam, the boy from 2, Mermista and Seahawk from 4, Glimmer and Bow, and now the tributes from 7 filing in.

“Fight ends when one of us surrenders,” Adora said.

“If you win, you get to join the careers,” Catra added. “If I win, you’re on your own.”

“Hey! You said this would be harmless.”

“It will be. You’re not gonna get hurt.”

Still, Adora frowned. Somehow, that didn’t seem fair. Catra wasn’t the sole voice of the careers… she wasn’t their leader! But none of the other careers said anything; only staring on in anticipation. Maybe Catra _was_ the leader.

But then maybe Adora would be.

“Alright,” Adora agreed, narrowing her eyes. “It’s on.”

“On the count of three!” Seahawk chimed in, striding closer to the two girls, but not too close. Even Mermista seemed interested, while Glimmer and Bow observed with judgemental looks. “One! Two! THREE!”

Catra made the first move. She leapt into the air, higher than Adora would think possible, staff raised high above her head and ready to smack down onto Adora in a high arc. Adora feinted to the side, dodging it easily, rolling down into a crouch, staff out in front to block.

Once Catra landed, Adora swept at her legs. Catra jumped again, then ran straight for Adora. Adora would have dodged again, but once she realized Catra had actually dropped her staff, she hesitated in surprise--

Catra’s nails raked across her cheek, causing her to yelp. She stumbled backwards, clutching at the four fresh streaks of blood. “Catra!”

“Oops,” Catra said with a shrug.

With a flash of sudden anger, Adora dropped her own staff and ran for a sword. She still didn’t mean to actually hurt Catra, but an alliance was at stake. And Adora was angry that Catra would hurt her, no matter how trivial. Besides, it really stung.

With lightning speed, Adora hit Catra in the stomach with the butt of the sword before she could pick up her staff again. As Catra doubled over, Adora kicked her in the chest, sending her back-first to the floor. Catra groped for the staff and found it just as Adora lunged with the sword--

The metal surfaces collided, the edge of Adora’s sword grating on the smooth surface of the staff. Both girls grunted the effort, each trying to overpower the other: Catra to throw Adora off of her, Adora to get the sword close enough to Catra’s face that she’d surrender.

Adora could see the fear in Catra’s eyes, excitement now coursing through her. The same excitement she felt whenever she was about to win a sparr back at the Horde: and she assumed it was also the excitement of a kill.

Catra began to sweat, her chest heaving at an uneven pace. Adora smirked.

“I-I surrender,” Catra choked out.

Adora immediately backed away from her, putting back her sword and staff. Catra sat on the floor in defeat, one arm propped on a knee, her other leg flat on the floor.

“I’ll admit, Adora, you’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Adora said proudly. She stood before Catra, smiling down at her.

“Good enough to make it with the rest of the careers.”

“Well, it’s not like I spent eighteen years training for it or anything.” She reached down to the sulking girl on the floor, giggling a little. “Come on, Cattie. Get up.”

Catra smiled, taking her hand, and rose. For a second, they stood face-to-face, ignoring the cheering career pack in the background. All Adora noticed was the warmth of Catra’s hand, the sharpness of her nails digging into Adora’s pale flesh, the shine in her cat-like eyes. And Adora’s heart fluttered, her breath seized, and before she knew what was happening, the moment ended,  her breath was knocked out of her, and she was lying flat on the floor.

Catra laughed. “Oh, man, you should see your face--”

Adora stared up at Catra, her previous anger swelling back up, but all it could manage to grow to was a mild annoyance. Catra had thrown her to the floor.

“You’re lucky there was a mat there. Now get up, you look stupid down there.”

Adora frowned up at Catra.

“Come on, Princess of District 1,” Catra said, more seriously now. “You need to meet your new teammates.”

 

. . .

 

“UGGHHHHH! Does he _have_ to join us?!” Mermista grumbled, leaning forward limply like a ragdoll. She leaned in to Adora, Adam, and Catra, and whispered, “he is _so._ ANNOYING!”

“Well, he is from a career district,” Adam reasoned.

“Why don’t you make everyone else fight you to prove they can join the team, eh Catra?” Adora teased.

“I actually knew all of them would be useful,” Catra replied lazily. She frowned at Mermista. “ _Including_ Seahawk.”

“Whatever, I don’t even want to be here,” Mermista groaned, sitting down on a crate behind the group. “And why are _they_ here? They’re not from career districts,” she said, pointing to the girls from 5 and 10.

“Scorpia showcased her strength to join,” Adam told her. Catra fended off a hug from the large girl as he spoke. “And I don’t think Entrapta is actually… part of the group.”

The strange girl from District 5 slid down from the rafters, adjusting her goggles. Adora figured they must’ve been her tribute token. “Huh?” She said, thoroughly confused.

“Are you joining us or not?” The boy from 2 -- Arkin, Adora had learned -- asked her.

“Oh, well, I suppose teaming up with career tributes would greatly increase my odds of winning,” Entrapta reasoned, twirling a strand of hair from one of her purple ponytails. Her hair was so long, Adora wondered how it wouldn’t get in her way in the arena. “So, yes,” she finished with a smile. She pulled a small contraption from her pocket, clicked a button, and spoke to it: “training log day one. The career tributes, plus the girl from 10, are letting me join their team! By observing them, I can greatly increase my knowledge in combat and survival…”

Adora looked around at her team. Her, Adam, Catra, Arkin, Mermista (though reluctantly), Seahawk (probably only because of Mermista), Scorpia, and Entrapta. It was a large pack this year. Sometimes, even the tributes from 1, 2, or 4 would reject the chance to join, opting to work on their own. Adora believed in strength in numbers, so she was glad to have an array of teammates, even if she planned to desert them later.

For now, her problem was that she and Catra both wanted the leadership position.

The careers ended up splitting off into groups to go to different stations. Entrapta and Scorpia went to practice combat, Catra to the knots and traps, Arkin and Adam to the dummies that had been set up to practice their weaponry.

Adora pretended she needed a drink and wandered off to the sidelines, sitting down at a table filled with water bottles. She took a large swig, and looked around.

The girl from 7 no longer had flowers in her hair, but she was still just as beautiful, and somewhat fragile-looking. She was currently acing every question at the plants station, identifying the ones safe to eat and the ones that would leave you dead in a heartbeat. The boy from 10, Rogelio, and the boy from 8, Kyle, went from station to station together, as did the girls from 9 and 11, Spinnerella and Netossa. _Lots of alliances this year_ … Adora noticed.

She had been trying to avoid it the whole time, but eventually, her eyes found Bow and Glimmer. Glimmer was trying her hand at a bow, while her friend tried to help her wield his namesake. She kept missing the target, and every time she did, she groaned, or stomped, or buried her face in her hands.

“...it’s okay, Glim, keep trying,” Bow comforted her. “Here, look.” He took the bow from her, narrating his pose and breathing for her. He hit dead center.

Glimmer tried again, this time, doing better: she hit the outermost ring. She threw the weapon and quiver down in frustration. “Mom is right!” She wailed, causing a few heads to turn.

“Glim, d-don’t attract attention!” Bow worried, his voice cracking.

“She’s right, Bow,” she said, a little quieter now. “She never lets me do anything, and it’s because I _can’t._ ”

“That’s not true… we all have special talents…”

Adora turned away. She couldn’t listen any longer.

 _Go and help her_ , her mind told her. _You know how to use a bow and arrow._

She shook her head. What was she thinking? She couldn’t help her competitors! She even had to be careful helping her teammates.

_What is it about them that makes me want to help?_

She needed to clear her head. She stood up abruptly, stomping over to the section where new, not-chopped-into-pieces dummies were being propped up. She looked up at the glass box, long since filled with Gamemakers. Then and Glimmer and Bow, who had moved on to various types of knives. She took the sharpest sword she saw and swung, cutting a dummy in half, decapitating another.

 _This is what I’m supposed to do_ , she told herself. She imagined blood pouring from them-- she imagined the thrill of the kill--

 _This is what Shadow Weaver trained me to do._ She impaled one through the heart with a yell. She didn’t notice the whole room staring at her, Gamemakers and all.

When she was done, trainers ambled over to retrieve the broken parts from the floor.

 _Is the real thing really this easy_ , she wondered. _Is it really so mindless?_

She looked around. The careers looked pleased (minus Mermista), while the rest of the tributes looked… terrified.

It should’ve made her happy. It should’ve made her proud. And it did, just a little.

But everything became different, in that moment. Her heart stopped, and suddenly, she was the one who was scared of herself. All her life, she had imagined faceless victims -- ones she couldn’t assign looks or personalities or hearts or families or friends or _anything_ to -- and here they all stood before her, completely and utterly humanized.

 _Stop it. I’m supposed to do this. I’m_ supposed _to kill._

So why could she suddenly no longer imagine herself doing it?


	4. The Angel of District 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update again! I just got sick and also have a lot of schoolwork, so updates may be slow, but I promise I'll be getting around to it as often as I can! Also, the Games will start ~Chapter 6!

Adora had watched each year’s Hunger Games her whole life. Violence and death were familiar to her in that way, as it was to everyone else in Etheria. But as a career tribute, it was even closer to her. She barely batted an eye when she rewatched old Games. Sure, she pitied some tributes -- ones that she rooted for or otherwise liked -- but she had been taught not to care.

With her current feelings of doubt and guilt, not sure she could make a kill when it came down to it, she needed to go back to the familiar feeling of watching the Games. At least, that’s what Shadow Weaver had told her.

“Watch mine,” Shadow had told her. “It’s the best of them, after all.”

“Sure,” Adora had said. Now, she sat alone in the foyer, splayed on the couch in her silken Capitol pajamas, holding a tape in her hand that was  _ definitely  _ not the one that portrayed Shadow’s victory.

She had watched it before. After all, it was also a famous one. And she wondered if watching it would somehow be an invasion of Glimmer’s privacy. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from District 3, and what she had said about her mother…

She popped the tape into the holo TV, the screen flaring to life. She turned down the volume as to not bug anyone at such a late hour, and settled in, her expression serious. As she did with every rewatch, she prepared to dissect and analyze the tributes’ mistakes and victories.

The Capitol seal flashed on screen, followed by footage of the Reaping in District 3, where Angella and Micah were chosen. Adora considered skipping through the interviews and tribute parade, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how alike Glimmer and Angella looked… and how calm and collected Angella seemed, despite having to leave behind her infant daughter. Adora suddenly wondered who took care of her during the time her parents were gone. What if Angella had never returned? Adora felt empty.

The arena that year was a swampy wetland, the trees a canopy shielding tributes from the light above, dappling the golden cornucopia with pockmarks of gold. When the gong sounded, Angella and Micah rushed immediately for each other, gathering one small backpack and a pack of throwing knives before running away.

But Micah’s boots sank into the mud, causing Angella to turn back and try to drag him out of the swampy ground. She pulled and pulled, and he tried to get himself out, but his hands were beginning to sink as well, and he told her to run.

Just as she dislodged him, one of the careers threw a knife into his back. Here, the editors in the Capitol (who put together the “best footage” of each Games before broadcasting its reruns) focused on Angella’s face as Micah coughed blood at her. Adora had never seen an expression so broken, so devastated… 

“R-run, Angella,” he choked. 

“NO!” She screamed. But the career boy was coming for her as well. She shielded her face with the backpack, having no choice but to drop her dying lover in the mud. 

The cameras showed Angella running through the swamplands before climbing a tree to rest, sobbing as quietly as she could, her cheek still spattered with blood. As she watched the projection of the fallen in the sky that night, something in her changed when she saw Micah’s face. His flashed up first, letting her know that his killer -- the boy from 2 -- was cruelly still alive, while the boy she had loved was dead. It was a small outer change, really. A newfound steel to her expression, her tear-glossed eyes gaining a new focus. But everyone was familiar of the story of what had happened inside.

The next tribute Angella ran into was the girl from 7, who attacked her. Though it seemed like a mismatched fight -- the girl from 7 having an axe, Angella only a few knives -- the assailant soon lay dead on the ground. The cameras zoomed in on Angella’s face as the cannon went off, her chest heaving. Tears in her eyes, she took the girl’s belongings.

“The first kill is always a definitive moment for any tribute,” a commentator’s disembodied voice spoke as the camera tracked another tribute, the boy from 12, making his own first kill. “Here, we can see that both tributes regret what they did: the difference being that Angella did so out of self-defense, Elijah of District 12 doing so out of disparity.”

Adora’s stomach twisted. Careers never regretted their kills. Did they?

“Exactly, Brando,” the other commentator said. The Games footage cut to the two commentators, a scoreboard for the tributes behind them, displaying names, districts, status, and kills. “But we can also see here that while Angella regrets it, she is hunting something… could she be hunting another tribute?”

During her after-Games interview, Angella had commented on her feelings of her kills.  _ “I deeply regret killing the girl from District 7. She attacked me with the intent to kill, and I felt I had no choice… but with the careers, especially the boy from 2, who killed my Beloved…”  _ Adora remembered that she then looked at the cameras, then to President Hordak’s podium, as if choosing her words carefully. She gulped, looking down to her feet.  _ “That boy, who killed Micah for  _ fun _ , for  _ sport _ …”  _ her gaze drifted back up to the audience, a cold in it that possessed her for days during her Games, when she hunted the careers down one-by-one and killed them.  _ “I can feel no such sympathy.” _

Somehow, watching Angella kill the careers was painful for Adora, unlike before, when she felt a sort of perverse and violent thrill. There was a noticeable escalation in her methods of killing, as she got more used to the bloodshed. When it was down to the final two, Adora felt sick to her stomach. She had never had to turn her head from the screen before, no matter the amount of bloodshed. But when she heard the final cannon, she finally opened her eyes again, to see Angella standing triumphantly over the broken body of the boy from 2.

The rest of the film seemed to go by in a blur. Adora had seen it so many times before, but now it all felt new. It suddenly felt tangible, as if she could reach through the screen and feel how cold and heavy the victory crown was on Angella’s head, the pain of wearing gauzy, translucent angel wings up on a stage while knowing you killed seven people.

“Why did you do what you did in that arena?” The interviewer asked Angella. She sat stoically across from him, hands folded in her lap. 

“I have a months-old daughter back home in District 3,” she told him coolly. “Micah and I, before we entered that arena, agreed that we should do anything in our power to assure that my sweet daughter, Glimmer, would have at least one parent when the Games were through.”

The next words put tears in Adora’s eyes. “After Micah died in the arena, I knew I had to fulfil that promise. The lives I’ve taken will haunt me. But I’d trade  _ anything  _ in this world for her safety.”

The screen faded to white, the Capitol seal shining in the center as the anthem escorted the end of the film.

The ended felt hollow. Hollower than Adora remembered. This time, she saw no glory in Angella’s victory. 

Adora’s gut twisted, conflicted feelings bombarding her. Angella had had the ruthlessness of a career herself when she had killed every tribute from 1, 2, and 4. But she was not devoid of heart: she did it all for her daughter. So that she may be safe.

Adora knew how it felt to be raised by a murderer. But somehow, she knew it was different for Glimmer. Shadow Weaver glorified her kills: the teammates she had backstabbed and the victims she had caught off-guard, and the final fight which had left her face permanently scarred, causing to her wear her signature mask. Angella, from what Adora could glean, was only motivated by revenge. And once revenge was exacted, one had no further use for cruelty.

Angella’s words echoed in Adora’s mind.

_ “...I’d trade  _ anything  _ in this world for her safety.”  _

Maybe Angella was overprotective of Glimmer, and that’s why her daughter felt she wasn’t allowed to do anything. Maybe Angella was scared of losing the only person she had left.

She had traded seven lives for her daughter’s, and now, that life was in danger.

It was… cruel.

_ No,  _ Adora’s mind screamed. This went against everything she had ever learned about the Games.  _ It’s not cruel, it’s just unfortunate. It could’ve been any girl from District 3. Going into the Games is an  _ honor _! _

But Glimmer didn’t think so. Her mother didn’t. Bow didn’t.  _ It’s just because they know they can’t win _ , she thought coldly. But there was a part of her that wished they could at least have a chance.

“What is happening to me,” she breathed. Her chest began to heave, so many new feelings and thoughts spearing her mind. “What is happening to me!” She threw the TV remote across the room. It bounced off the window and fell to the floor with a clatter.

She startled at the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned, wiping tears that she didn’t even know were there from her eyes. 

“Sh-Shadow Weaver,” she said, voice quivering, no matter how much she tried to stop it. 

“I heard a shout. Is something wrong, Adora?”

Her body went rigid, fear settling in her stomach. There was no way she could tell Shadow Weaver how she felt. “N-no, it’s all fine. I just… got excited,” she lied, with a nervous laugh. “Just, you know, the… the thrill of the Games!”

“Of course…” Shadow Weaver said carefully, not sounding completely convinced. “I see you’re not wearing the badge I gave you.”

“I’m… in pajamas…”

“But you didn’t wear it during training, either, did you?”

“Of course I did.”

Shadow Weaver took a sharp step forward. Darkness seemed to cloud around the both of them as Shadow took Adora’s chin into a vice grip, forcing her to look at where her eyes would be under her glimmering mask. “I spoke to Adam. He told me he didn’t see it on you. Listen to me, Adora. There is absolutely no going back from here. I don’t care about any of the other tributes, not even Adam. All that matters is that  _ you  _ come out alive.”

“Y-yes, Shadow--”

“You seemed completely out of it today, as if you’re suddenly scared. Trust me when I saw none of those other tributes, not even Catra are anywhere near your skill level. If you lose to any of them, remember what that means: I’d be let down, and you would be  _ dead _ .”

“Y-yes--”

“You have no other choice,” Shadow seethed. “You’re the only one who deserves to win.”

“I know,” Adora agreed in her fear.  _ But what about Glimmer. What about Bow.  _

“This is what you’re meant to do, Adora. It’s what I was meant to do. I have complete faith in you that once you get there, you’ll see what it’s like. How alive it makes you feel. I imagine you could get at least four kills.”

Adora didn’t respond.

Shadow Weaver seemed to think her speech had been satisfactory, for she let go of Adora and receded, light seeping into the world once more. “Just remember, Adora,” she said, turning to walk down the hall to her room. “Victory or death. I know which one you’ll choose.”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

Victory or death. It shouldn’t have been hard to choose. But Adora suddenly hoped that there could be a third option.


	5. What's Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, umm, the Games start next chapter, and I might've got carried away with the Catradora at the end...

The next few days seemed to meld together, lasting both forever and no time at all. Two more days of training during which Adora quelled every doubt she had about the Games. She avoided looking at Glimmer and Bow. When she caught herself feeling something she wasn’t supposed to feel, she repeated Shadow Weaver’s words to herself until their full meaning sank into her again like a knife.  _ Victory or death.  _

Adora was the first tribute to have her private training session with the Gamemakers. All twenty-four tributes lined up on a bench outside the training room, some casting nervous glances at each other, some, like Adora, looking down at the floor, concentrating.  _ Victory or death. _

She ended up chopping up dummies with various swords for her five minutes with stunning ferocity. Later that night, after dinner, she, Adam, Shadow Weaver, and the Capitol citizens working for District 1 sat down on the couch to watch the training scores. Since Adora was the girl from District 1, she always came first out of twenty-four for these things. She was tired of it.

She just hoped the Gamemakers gave her a decent score. Decent enough that Shadow Weaver would see that she hadn’t lost her motivation: she was going to win. She didn’t care about anyone else, not even Catra, who had continued flirting with her the past few days.

Everyone in the room erupted into cheers when they saw Adora’s score. An eleven. An eleven out of twelve! She was almost too surprised to be happy or relieved.

Adam got a nine, while Catra got the second-best score of all, at a ten. Entrapta got a surprisingly high score for a non-career at a nine, while Kyle got the worst at four.

It was all happening so fast. Only a few days ago, Adora had been back in District 1, hoping with all her heart that she would be chosen. Now she was here, and it no longer felt like a dream. For some reason, she wished she just had more time, that she could delay the Games… that she could think of something else. Whenever she did, Glimmer’s and Bow’s faces started to shine through the haze, along with a certain girl from District 2. Adora was more ready to let herself latch onto the latter, since she’d actually be spending time with her in the arena. 

Finally, it was time for the interviews. While the past few days of Adora’s life had been a cesspool of stress, tonight was especially stressful for her. Stylists tugged on her straw-blonde hair, curling and brightening it until it was made into molten gold waves. They dressed her in an outfit that stuck to the theme of the chariot ride. She had another headpiece, but this one’s “wings” were rounded and curved at the ends, giving them a more feather-like look. That, along with the shimmering white fabric of the bodice and skirt, once again inlaid with gold filigree on the chest, gave her the image not of a warrior princess, but of something more regal and graceful and elegant. She felt a little self-conscious about the neckline, which was curved into a sort of heart shape, more winglike gold pieces emerging above her breasts to engulf her shoulders. She worried it showed off a little too much, but the stylists seemed to love it.

“Just act confident,” Madame Razz told her when she emerged from the styling room. “They already love you, dearie.”

The tributes sat in line backstage, a heavy red curtain separating them from the roaring Capitol crowd, and the stage where they would be interviewed by the quirky Capitol host, Castaspella. 

There were a few minutes of waiting time before Adora went on stage. Being the first to get interviewed didn’t do much to help calm her nerves. She sat on one of the plush couches in the waiting room, not bothering to look up at the holo TVs where announcers chatted with Castaspella about what they might learn about the tributes tonight. She stared at her shiny gold boots, brow knit in worry. She had seen plenty of interviews before, of course -- dissected them ruthlessly, always wondering what her “angle” would be; her attitude that she would portray to the Capitol. Something memorable, something that set her apart from the others.

“Your stupid tiara is gonna fall off if you keep staring at your feet.”

Adora looked up, some of her nerves leaving temporarily. She was about to give Catra some witty remark, but was left speechless when she actually saw the girl in front of her. Her headpiece was back, along with its hyper-realistic cat ears. Her stylists had put her in a burgundy suit that showed off her subtle curves.

Catra giggled when she saw Adora’s expression. “Man, you’re kind of fun to tease,” she said, hands reaching up to undo the black tie around her neck, letting it hang limply on either side. “I just wanted to remind you that you go on in, like, ten seconds, as of right now.”

“Oh.”

_ Oh. _

Adora stood up and turned abruptly to the curtain. Sure enough, a Capitol woman was waving at her, and she could hear Castaspella’s booming voice. “...are you all ready to meet our first tribute? As always, ladies first, and District 1!”

“Good luck, Adora,” Catra purred.

Adora managed an embarrassed smile at her before taking a deep breath and pushing aside the curtain just as Casta’s voice announced her name.

Immediately, Adora was blinded. The stage was set up on the aisle of tributes, the warm summer air even warmer thanks to the enormity of the crowd. Screens were set up at various angles on the stage, all of which currently broadcast her face to the crowd.

A switch was flipped inside of her; one that had been switched on and off so many times these past few days. All of the sudden, Adora managed to plaster a large smile on her face. It felt natural to wave to the crowd, then, as she walked up the artful steps that led to the round white chair she was meant to occupy. Casta was standing and clapping, marvelling Adora’s dress.

When the crowd quieted down, Casta spoke into her microphone. “What a beautiful dress, Adora! I see we’ve been treating you well in the Capitol.”

Adora sat down, smoothing her dress over her knees. The microphone was in front of her face. She had to think of something quick-- “oh, I absolutely love it here.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Casta’s voice boomed. She turned to the crowd, smiling at them. Adora did the same, not sure of where to look at any given point until Casta spoke to her again. “But of course District 1 is wonderful too, isn’t it?”

“Of course, Casta.”

“First-name basis!” Casta joked. The crowd tittered. Adora blushed a little. She was losing her edge. 

“The greatest thing about District 1 was training for the Hunger Games, of course,” she added.  _ On topic and on edge _ , she congratulated herself. She needed to let everyone -- from the other tributes to Shadow Weaver to the Capitol and even Casta -- that she was serious. Maybe she even needed to prove something to herself after all she had felt the past few days.

“What wonderful enthusiasm!” Casta leaned forward, suddenly more serious. “Now, Adora. You come from District 1, you’ve shown incredible enthusiasm for the Games, but can you tell us how you got that 11 in training? The highest score out of all twenty-four!”

Adora smiled a little. Yes, she had gotten the highest score… she deserved to be proud of that. “Well, Casta, I wish I could, but I’m supposed to keep that confidential.”

“Oh, of course! Doesn’t mean I couldn’t try!”

The crowd laughed again.

“Adora, tell me what you think of this year’s tributes. Do you see any competition? Anyone interesting?”

Adora’s heart leapt. She gulped. “W-well, Catra got a very high score in training as well,” she began, not sure where she meant to go with this. Casta nodded, brows knit in concentration, urging Adora to go on. She didn’t think it wise to mention their alliance (no matter how obvious career alliances were), so she continued, “I think she’s definitely someone to look out for. But there’s lots of other tributes with various skills this year. I think they could all be a challenge.”

The crowd was quiet. So was Casta. “But I know  _ I’m  _ the one everyone should look out for,” Adora added before she realized she was speaking. 

The crowd cheered at this. Adora turned to them and smiled again, though this time a little cockier. 

“Well well!” Casta said. She turned to Adora. “You know what, Adora? I think you have a point. The competition might be dangerous, but you haven’t trained your whole life for nothing! I think you will fare very well in the arena. Don’t you, everyone?”

The whole crowd erupted into various chants and cheers and claps. A buzzer sounded from above, signaling the end of Adora’s time. 

“Well, Adora, it’s been an honor interviewing you. Good luck in that arena!”

Casta extended a hand to Adora to help her up. Adora took it, and turned to the crowd. She felt as if she needed to do something to signal the end of her interview, so she waved with both hands, beaming at them, and blowing a kiss. She felt silly doing it, but everyone seemed to love it.

When Adora pushed the red curtain aside again, she had the feeling that she was entering a different world. The noise from the stage quieted down, now only muffled voices in the distance. It was oddly quiet in the waiting room, and now that Adora no longer had a place in line, she didn’t know where to stand or where to go. Adam shuffled past her onto stage, Catra bringing up the front now. She was the only one smiling, catlike eyes gleaming with a mischief Adora couldn’t quite place. Behind her, the rest of the tributes glowered at Adora: the rest of the careers in jealousy, the others in disgust. 

Adora met eyes with Glimmer, who was sitting behind Arkin in a fluffy purple dress, sparkles gleaming in her hair and on her skin. Her purple gaze was piercing. Adora took a step back, crossing her arms across her chest. She glared back at Glimmer, her elation from being the crowd favorite still intoxicating her senses. She was vaguely aware of Adam’s confident laughter from the TVs around the room, but what really stood out to her was the fact that this was the closest she had ever been to Glimmer. She still seemed soft from only a few feet away, but not fragile as she had seemed at her Reaping, nor helpless as during training. She was almost as intimidating as Adora herself.

“What?” Adora snapped at her.

Multiple things happened at once. Adora immediately regretted her challenge, Glimmer lunged forward, Bow holding her back before she came within an inch of Adora. Shadow Weaver and Razz leapt forward, each taking Adora by an arm and dragging her to the couch.

“Glim, what was that about?” Bow asked. Adora tried to listen for her answer, but Shadow’s voice tore through the room, the quiet hissing of a very, very angry snake.

“ADORA!” She spat. “What was that about? You did wonderfully on stage. You know you have to save altrications with other tributes for the  _ arena _ ! You’re lucky the District 3 boy was there to hold back his friend, otherwise we might have had an actual fight on our hands! Fighting before the Games start is strictly  _ forbidden _ !”

Adora looked down at her lap sheepishly. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, she just… never knew how to feel about Glimmer. She was beautiful, and seemed so tender, too soft to stand a chance in the Games, but she looked at Adora not only with hate and disgust, but almost with a challenge of her own. Like she  _ wanted  _ to fight. Adora’s heart seized.  _ I don’t want to fight her.  _

“Do you understand me, Adora!”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

Shadow Weaver forced Adora’s head up so Adora was forced to look at her obscured face. Up until now, Adora knew there was nothing she could’ve ever done to stop Shadow Weaver from touching her like this, from scolding her and treating her like a child. But for some reason, in that moment, Adora wanted to yank herself away and punch the insolent woman. 

But she knew she couldn’t.

Instead, her hateful gaze burned into Shadow, the woman who had practically raised her, trained her, taught her all she knew.

“You mustn’t grow too  _ close  _ to the other tributes either,” Shadow seethed in Adora’s ear. “Don’t think I don’t notice how you look at that District 2 girl. And mentioning her in your interview? You’re asking for trouble and playing with fire. That girl is dangerous, and I won’t have  _ my  _ student lose to her just because you can’t resist her. Do you understand?”

Adora gasped. H-how had Shadow Weaver known?! That meant Catra herself must’ve noticed as well… maybe even those in the Capitol. They ate up love between tributes, especially since it was so rare. Every year certain tributes took a fancy to each other, the Gamemakers would either play along, manipulating the arena to play to their advantage, or intentionally kill one of them off to create a compelling sob-story. Adora sometimes wondered if that was part of how Glimmer’s mother won.

Loving Catra wasn’t forbidden in the arena, but it could be deadly.

“Yes, Shadow Weaver,” Adora said pointedly.

Shadow Weaver backed off, leaving Adora to sit alone on the other side of the room, seething with anger, trying to calm herself. 

When she looked up again, it was Catra onstage, sitting casually in her white chair next to Castaspella. “Oh, yeah, I have no doubt I’ll win,” she said. Her cat eyes danced, and she leaned forward. “I can’t wait to conquer the arena.”

 

. . .

 

By the time Bow was on screen, a red heart glittering on his chest, winning over the audience with his friendly personality and charming looks, Adora had left the main room backstage. She told Shadow Weaver she needed a moment alone, which wasn’t even a lie. She was currently pacing in a hallway lined with vases full of types of flowers Adora had never seen before, passing the elevator with each lap. She was lost in thought, strategizing endlessly. Maybe she should go up to her room and make a chart -- plot the alliances and relationships and figure out who to watch out for -- create a battle strategy for each--

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora gasped and spun, but she didn’t bother to hold up a fist. There was only one person who said that to her in that voice, and she wasn’t a danger. Yet.

“Catra,” Adora said as way of greeting. She couldn’t fight the stupid smile that made its way onto her face. 

“You did quite well during your interview,” Catra said coolly, once again pretending to check her nails as she leaned against a sconce on the wall. It must have been a habit of hers. Quite an odd method of seduction. But Adora wasn’t one to complain, especially with Catra looking so stunning in that burgundy suit. But…

“I’m sorry, 2, but I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing those fake cat ears.”

Catra took them off, throwing them to the floor without care. “Anyway… you had the audience in quite a trance back there. And in that dress…” Catra’s eyes roamed Adora’s figure, just as they had the day of the tribute parade. But this time, Adora wasn’t surprised or embarrassed. Something inside of her awoke, and it welcomed Catra’s gaze. It wanted her. It wanted Catra.

_ Adora  _ wanted Catra.

But it was wrong. Tomorrow morning, they would be thrown into the arena, where only one would come out alive. 

But they were allies, weren’t they? And the idea of upsetting Shadow Weaver, of disobeying her, thrilled Adora somehow. She didn’t want to be in that woman’s control. In the arena, she would be in her  _ own  _ control.

“Adora,” Catra said, snapping her out of her thoughts. She smiled her crooked smile, eyes twinkling. “Follow me.”

“Wh--!” Adora didn’t have time to protest. Catra dragged her inside the the elevator, pressing a button with the number 2 on it.

“Catra!” Adora protested, yanking her wrist from the other girl’s grip. Despite the desires and anticipation curling in her chest, there was a problem with Catra’s little plan. “We should be watching the interviews. And other tributes aren’t allowed on each other’s floors.”

“For someone who longs to murder, you sure are a stickler for rules. Besides, everyone else is watching the interviews, so no one will even notice we’re gone. Which means we have until the boy from 12 finished his interview.”

“F-for what?” That rogue feeling boiled up inside her again. 

Catra took her by the wrist again. Adora was vaguely aware of Catra taking her to her room, flicking the TV on along their way so that they could know when it was time for them to pretend that nothing had happened. Catra’s room was a lot like Adora’s, but her sheets were a deep red. Maybe each floor had a different color scheme.

“You know how the windows can be turned into a hologram?” Catra asked, kicking off her shoes and sitting on the side of her bed. She took a remote into her hands and began flicking through images on the window. A jungle, a desert, a bustling Capitol street, a dense forest… Catra stopped once she reached a city view. It was definitely not another Capitol view, because the buildings didn’t have bright roofs and the people didn’t look like aliens. The buildings were gray, the people dressed casually, miles of city for as far as they could see. 

“What is this?” Adora asked, sitting beside Catra.

“See that building in the center?” Catra asked, pointing. It had a circular seal on it, but it wasn’t the Capitol one. Two hammers were crossed beneath a slab of stone. It was the District 2 seal. It was their Justice Building. Adora looked to Catra. She had a look on her face that Adora had never seen from her before. It was something of sentiment, causing her gaze to soften and her lips to curl into a non-threatening, non-flirty smile. It made her look soft, kind. “It’s home.”

“Can it show you other districts?” Adora asked softly. “Maybe you should see where I’m from.”

“I looked. I can only see District 2. They must’ve made it so you can only see the district your from. It’s oddly comforting.”

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Catra turned to Adora, face pensive. “Yeah,” she said, twirling a strand of hair around a claw. “But… there’s something I wanted to do before then. Before our lives  _ really  _ change.”

“What is that?”

But Catra was already leaning forward, her hands already reaching for Adora’s waist. Slowly, their lips met. It was desperate, Catra’s fang-sharp teeth biting for Adora’s bottom lip, drawing her closer and closer, as close as possible. Adora’s whole body lit up with a golden feeling. Something thrilling, tingling, something that left her wanting more when they broke apart.

Catra giggled when she saw the look on Adora’s face. “Did you  _ really  _ not expect that?”

“I-I did, but I-- I didn’t expect it to feel--”

Catra reached forward to remove Adora’s crown, setting it gently on her nightstand like it was sacred. She leaned back in for another kiss, and though she was rough and her nails would sometimes dig into Adora’s skin or she would accidentally pull her hair, Adora had never felt like she had been touched so gently, so reverently. 

They shifted so Adora lay on the bed, curled hair splayed over Catra’s crimson pillows. Catra straddled her hips, leaning down to kiss her lips again before moving to tease over her jawline. Adora sighed, fingers tangling in Catra’s hair as she felt the other girl’s wet kisses on her neck. Catra let out a sound that was something along the lines of a purr.

“Adora,” she said softly. The noise from the TV was a distant tether to reality. It was as if all that really existed was them, the connection of lips and skin on skin, the soft sounds of pleasure. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you.”

Adora smiled. “Me too.”

“I knew we wouldn’t be able to do this in the arena.” Her flirty and seductive attitude faltered for a moment as she became serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? You know one of us is going to die soon.”

“And it won’t be me,” Adora teased, though in her mind, she corrected Catra:  _ at least one of us is going to die, not  _ just  _ one of us…  _

Catra smiled down at her. “You’re right. You’re so hot I’m going to die right here and now.” Adora blushed. Catra looked away for a second, embarrassed (another emotion Adora hadn’t seen her display yet, but it made her oddly cute). “Umm… is it okay if I…” her hands went to Adora’s bare shoulders, causing the blonde girl to shiver. Her tan hands moved slowly to the curve of Adora’s breasts, eyes darting frantically between Adora’s face for permission and Adora’s chest to admire it. 

“Yeah,” Adora said breathlessly. At her word, Catra slowly eased Adora’s dress down her frame, the top of it bunching just above her hips, leaving Adora’s torso bare. Her face went completely red. She had never done more than kiss girls back in District 2. With her training, she didn’t have time for a girlfriend, no matter how much she wanted one. She spent more time fantasizing about the Games than girls, though she still always wished to have someone to kiss and hold hands with -- and whatever it was they were doing now, with Catra caressing Adora’s breasts as she kissed every inch of her muscled chest and stomach.

When Catra stopped, Adora was disappointed for a second, but then Catra sat up and shucked off her suit’s coat, then, while making eye contact with Adora, teasingly undid one button at a time on her shirt.

Catra giggled once she was left with only her black bra. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

When Catra leaned down to kiss her again, Adora reached behind Catra’s back frantically to unhook her bra. When it fell, Catra tossed it aside, and Adora sighed at the warm feeling of skin on skin almost everywhere, the way their curves fit together like they never meant to be apart.

Adora knew it was wrong. Every kiss, every touch, every thrill. She was disobeying Shadow Weaver, and in days’ time, either she or the girl whose mouth was between her legs, hands pushing her long skirts up, would be dead. But it was so hard to think of that when warm waves of pleasure finally engulfed her, washing her ashore of bliss. Nothing but she and Catra existed. Not even the sound of the TV from a few rooms over. All that mattered to them was what was right in front of them: Adora’s pale fingers pulling at Catra’s pants, the way they kissed and whispered each other’s names.

Sure, it was wrong, but it felt right. 

And if either of them were to die, both were glad they did what they did before then.


	6. Bloodbath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! The chapters are getting longer (and more violent) now that the Games are beginning, so updates may be slower. Please bare with me! And let the Games begin!
> 
> The arena is the Whispering Woods. Also, since this is kind of an alternate universe in a lot of ways, Panem being Etheria, I figured I could make this year's Hunger Games any number, since Katniss probably didn't ever exist in Etheria... so welcome to the 92nd Hunger Games.
> 
> Remaining Tributes: 24  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta, District 5 Male  
> District 6: District 6 Female, District 6 Male  
> District 7: Perfuma, District 7 Male  
> District 8: Lonnie, Kyle  
> District 9: Spinnerella, District 9 Male  
> District 10: Scorpia, Rogelio  
> District 11: Netossa, District 11 Male  
> District 12: District 12 Female, District 12 Male

Catra and Adora stayed in Catra’s room until they heard the boy from 12 start his interview. They had just sat there, half-naked, talking and laughing, as if they had all the time in the world, until they remembered they didn’t, and Adora gave Catra a parting kiss. 

Catra escorted her to the elevator once they had both put their clothes back on. Adora would change once she got back to her room. Catra leaned against the doorway like she always did. Adora realized with a pang in her heart that she would miss that. 

“Hey, Adora…” Catra started. Adora would miss that too. “See you in the arena.”

“Yeah. We’ll look out for each other,” Adora promised. It was naive and stupid and impossible to keep, but neither of them cared about that.

“You promise?” Catra asked, a faint smile on her face.

“I promise.” Adora smiled back. The elevator doors closed, and she was buzzed down a floor. No one was there yet, so she went to her room and changed into pajamas, deciding she should check in early for the night.

After all, she had a big day tomorrow.

 

. . .

 

Adora stood in a small, underground room below the arena. She had dressed in her mandated arena outfit, a white, long-sleeved undershirt with a gray “1” over the chest under a red jacket, gray jeans, and boots that reached to her mid-calf. The outfits were usually an indicator of what the arena would be like: one year, all the tributes had been dressed in furry winter coats and fought high in the mountains, another, bodysuits meant to keep out water were given to tributes when they found themselves close to the ocean. Adora couldn’t be sure what  _ this  _ outfit was meant to do. It looked nice, and wasn’t warm nor cool.  _ Maybe temperature isn’t a problem. But it is very covering, so maybe it’s meant to keep out wind… _

“Adora.”

Adora looked up, startled. The Games were going to start in less than a minute. Her nerves came back in a rush as Shadow Weaver stepped forward.

“You’re allowed to see me off to launch?”

“Normally a Capitol citizen is there to help with launching, as is the case with Adam. But I wanted to see you off, Adora.”

“Scared I won’t come back?” Adora joked with a nervous laugh, hugging her arms to her body.

“Quite the opposite. I wanted to see my student one last time before she becomes victor. You and I both know you’re coming back alive, Adora. And I wanted to make sure you have your badge.”

“Of course,” Adora said with a smile, pointing to the Horde badge Shadow Weaver had given her the day of the Reaping. 

“In my mind, I never had a doubt it would be you,” Shadow continued. “I always knew you were destined for victory, from the first time I saw you swing a sword. I knew you could be as ruthless as me. I knew you shared my bloodlust.”

Suddenly, all of Adora’s doubts -- the ones she had spent days quelling and burying so far down she had almost forgotten them -- came rushing back. “R-really?” She asked, hoping that the answer would be  _ no _ , that Adora hadn’t been born for blood and violence. But someone like Shadow Weaver only knew one answer.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Shadow Weaver.” Adora didn’t bother for a hug. She had never had that sort of relationship with Shadow. She wasn’t her mother, she didn’t exactly feel like one. She was a teacher… a mentor. So Adora saluted to her.

“You’ll look wonderful in that victory crown. Everyone will love you, just as they all did the moment they first saw you on screen at the Reaping.”

Adora managed a smile. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said confidently, in hopes that it would  _ actually  _ lead her to be confident again, “I have a Hunger Games to win.”

“That’s my Adora.”

Adora stomped into the glass tube, feeling the metal plate below her partially give to weight. It made her heart stutter, since she knew that if she stepped off too early, or dropped something onto it before the time, she would be blown up. 

The glass closed behind her. She didn’t bother to look back at Shadow, back at her past. All she had was the future and the present. The present was her plate slowly rising, the light of day visible above her. It was her heart pounding, her breath scratching her throat. It was the Games.

It was as if her past had never truly existed to her once she came to a halt above ground. Her past was literally buried underground, where it could not reach her. 

She felt a thrill rise inside her, one she had learned for years to crave, one that could only reach her here and now, as she surveyed her surroundings.

She was in a clearing, the blue sky visible above, though all around the tributes, dense forest awaited; trees and plants that were various shades of blue and green and other odd colors, some with large round leaves. The plants would  _ definitely  _ have to be checked for edibility. The golden cornucopia rested in the center of the clearing, the twenty-four tributes making a perfect circle around it, all wearing variations of the red and white outfit Adora had been given. To her right was Kyle, the boy from 8, who was visibly shaking. To her left, the girl from 9, Spinnerella, who had locked eyes with a girl directly across from her. Adora briefly recognized her as being from District 11. She was Netossa, and the two girls seemed to be in alliance.

None of the tributes moved anything but their eyes and their heads. Adora looked around for her allies, but mostly for Catra, who was a few tributes away from Adora. When they locked eyes, Adora almost didn’t recognize the girl. Her eyes gleamed, her fingers were splayed to show off her sharp nails, and she grinned with a ferocity Adora had only seen in Shadow Weaver and Angella.

She looked hungry.

Before she could stop herself, she fixated on Bow, who was on the other side of the circle, making nervous glances to Glimmer, six tributes to his left. Adora promptly looked away.

Adora’s doubts mixed with fear and excitement. Her prevailing emotion was the latter. It boiled in her blood and caused her to shiver. She was scared of herself, but Shadow Weaver was right. Adora had been raised for this, even if she wasn’t born for it. She was meant to kill.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Castaspella’s voice boomed around the arena. “Let the 92nd annual Hunger Games begin!”

A hologram fizzed to life at the gaping mouth of the cornucopia, a circle encasing a giant number “60”. One minute. It counted down with each passing second  Adora’s eyes roamed the supplies; various backpacks, tents and tarps, but most of all, the  _ weapons _ . A rack of spears so sharp they looked like they could kill with only a prick of the finger, axes leaned on crates and most of all, something that Adora knew the Gamemakers had made just for her, knowing that with it, she could give the Capitol a Games to remember.

_ 10. _

A sword, its golden hilt gleaming in the sunlight, a blue gem shining at its center. The gold swooped and ended like wings, a long, wide, blue-tinted blade protruding from it. There were other swords, but none of them were as beautiful. 

_ 5. _

This sword was glamorous, meant for someone with charm and ferocity and the skill to win.

_ 3. _

That sword was hers.

Adora slid a foot back on her pedestal, ready to run. Nothing would stop her from getting that sword.

_ 1. _

The gong sounded, and all hell broke loose.

Adora broke into a run immediately, trampling blue grass in her wake. Her sight zeroed in on the sword, leaning tantalizingly against a crate. She heard a scream to her side when she was about halfway to the cornucopia, turning to see if it might be a threat. Spinnerella had tripped, and the girl from 6 was wrestling her down, grappling for the small pack Spinnerella had swiped. 

_ No turning back _ , Adora told herself.

When she finally reached the mouth of the cornucopia, she grinned. The sword was cold and menacing in her hands. It was powerful and it was fierce.

“Glad you finally showed up.” 

Adora turned, sword at the ready, but it was just Catra, who had slung a backpack over her shoulder and was currently arming herself with knives. When she saw Adora’s startled expression, she added, “I’m pretty fast, you know.” 

“What’s the plan?” 

Catra took a staff into her hands and sauntered up next to Adora. “Wait for our allies. The other tributes will run off. We can take the cornucopia.”

It was a standard career tribute plan, but it was also one that worked. At a certain point, the careers would have to leave, though, as to not attract Gamemaker-issued trouble. “Got it.”

Catra jumped into the fight, causing Adora a sudden fright. Adora stood back for a moment. The rest of the tributes hadn’t gotten to the cornucopia yet, so she figured she should stay by and guard it. 

A few yard away, Netossa had Spinnerella’s small backpack slung over her arm, the girl over her other, who was limping, a gash in the back of her leg. They weren’t much of a threat, so Adam, who came within a foot of them as they ran as fast as they could, didn’t bother chasing them. He was more preoccupied with the boy from 5, who had gotten his hands on an axe and was charging for the cornucopia. 

Right for Adora.

The boy had no picked up a dagger on his way, and for whatever stupid reason, had it in him to attack Adora. What happened next was thoughtless. Adam had injured the boy’s arm, but Rogelio had charged Adam, leaving Adora alone to face this boy. She was scared, even though she knew she’d win. When he was close enough, she swung the sword at his stomach. He screamed, hands flying to the gash in his stomach, now struggling to stand. He cowered against the inside of the cornucopia, before lunging forward for Adora again, dagger pointed at her. She thrust forward with the sword, impaling him against the wall, the sound of metal on metal reverberating through her ears. 

She felt queasy. She felt awe at what she had just done. He was limp and lifeless, body still skewered on her blade. 

_ I did this _ , she told herself.  _ Shadow Weaver did this once. Angella did this once.  _

She didn’t exactly know how it made her feel. It was powerful, but it was scary.

She slid his body carefully off of the sword and turned away. Watching gore on screen was one thing, being face-to-face with it was another.

When she turned back to the fray, she was staring into the eyes of Glimmer.

Adora halted. It was like the girl had teleported into the cornucopia, unseen and unheard. Glimmer’s frantic eyes fell to the sword in Adora’s hand, blood dripping from its blade. For a second, it looked almost as if she was just standing there, waiting for Adora to stab her, just as she had seen her do to the boy from 5.

But then Glimmer ran. She had a backpack and a spear, and just as randomly as she had appeared, she was lost in the destruction. Then she was a figure at the edge of the woods, Bow beside her, running off into the foliage.

Arkin made it to the cornucopia along with Adam, who helped Adora protect it. Adora mainly just looked around for Catra, scared for her, though she knew the fierce girl would be doing just fine on her own.

She found her a few yards from the cornucopia, wrestling a backpack from the District 12 girl’s grasp, kicking her to the ground, hitting her with the staff. The girl screamed. Adora flinched as Catra hit the girl with the staff again, ignoring the girl’s pained cries. One last hit, this time with a sharp  _ crack _ . The girl went limp, and Catra took her backpack, running it back to the cornucopia.

She halted when she reached Adora, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Adora… don’t look so concerned. I’m fine out there. Follow me.”

Adora felt as if she didn’t have a choice. Her and Catra fought back-to-back, fending tributes away from the cornucopia. Scorpia joined at some point, Seahawk and Mermista engaged in combat with the pair from 6. Entrapta was nowhere to be seen.

The District 9 boy was close to the cornucopia, sweeping supplies off the ground, clearly with the intent of running off. Though he was closer to Adora, Catra whirled around and snarled, taking a knife from her belt and launching it at him. It hit him in the side, and he collapsed to the ground, coughing blood.

Adora’s gut twisted. She always knew that the boy had no chance, that he was weak. And she would rather have her lover live than him, but… he hadn’t even wanted to attack them. He just wanted to run off. He clawed at the ground like it was an anchor to life, but Catra threw another knife, this one lodging in the back of his skull. He was dead before he knew what hit him.

“Catra--” Adora started frantically, not sure of what she was going to say. But then her eyes widened, and she screamed. “CATRA!”

Catra turned just in time to see Rogelio barreling towards them. Adora’s protective instinct kicked in, and she stepped in front of Catra, swinging for Rogelio. He feinted, Adora’s blade grazing his side. He threw a punch at Catra. She had no time to deflect it. She staggered back, before roaring, scratching him in the face. Scorpia ran to the three of them, making a weird gesture with her hands, before she hit him in the back of the neck, causing his eyes to flutter shut and him to fall limp on the ground.

“What did you do?” Adora marvelled.

Scorpia shrugged. “I don’t know. It just makes people fall asleep.”

Catra took a knife in either hand, and Adora forced herself to look away. She turned just in time to see Mermista running towards them, Seahawk not far behind her, the girl from 6 in a heap on the ground, blood seeping from a large gash in her chest. Her district companion was trying to run away, but Adam burst from the cornucopia with a sword in hand, swinging it with a sharp arc at the boy’s neck. He coughed and collapsed, Adam bringing the sword down again, almost decapitating him. 

Adora heard a high-pitched scream from her right. She turned to find Arkin fighting the boy from 12. He wrestled him to the ground, stabbing him over and over.

Adora turned back to where Catra had gone to finish off Rogelio. He was splayed on the ground, lifeless. Catra stood up slowly, wiping blood from her face. A movement only feet away caught Adora’s eye. A boy with a “7” on his chest had launched an axe at her.

“CATRA!” Adora screamed again. She broke into a run, crashing into Catra, toppling her down to the ground with a yelp. The axe wizzed over them. Adora heard something rip. Tendrils of blonde hair floated to the ground.  _ It grazed my ponytail.  _

Catra leapt at the boy, digging her nails into his face. He screamed and stumbled back, tripping over himself. Catra had gotten his eyes. Blindly, he rose to his feet again, but before he could run away, Catra threw a knife into his back.

At the edge of the clearing, Adora saw a flurry of movement. A body dropped from high in a tree, landing not to the ground, but onto Lonnie. They both yelped, rolling around on the ground, the attacker yelling wildly and throwing punches. It was…

“Entrapta?” Scorpia asked.

“HELP!” The District 5 girl yelled to her allies. “I DON’T HAVE ANY WEAPONS!”

Adam took a bow from the cornucopia, drawing the string. 

“Wait!” Adora said frantically. “What if you miss and hit Entrapta?”

“I had just as good training as you, Adora.” Adam said confidently. Adora flinched as she heard the arrow lodge, worried that it had indeed hit their purple-haired ally. But the resounding laugh of triumph told her that Entrapta had made it.

“Thank you for that, tall one!” She yelled. But Adam had still missed, Lonnie dashing into the forest, sparse supplies in hand. His arrow had hit the trunk of Entrapta’s tree, but the spunky girl was still just as grateful.

The careers regrouped. It seemed the only other tributes at the cornucopia were those who were dead. But then Entrapta spoke again. “Adam, can you hand me your bow? Mermista hasn’t joined us and is currently being attacked by the boy from District 11.”

“Wh--” Seahawk began, startled that he had managed to leave Mermista behind.

Entrapta took the bow and exactly one arrow into her hands, yelling to Mermista. “HEY! MERMAID GIRL!”

Mermista turned, trident in hand, just in time to jump out of the way so that the arrow lodged into the boy’s throat instead of hers. He fell forward onto Mermista’s trident, causing her to jump away in disgust.

Mermista stalked back over to them, holding her bloody trident at a distance. “Thanks, I guess,” she grumbled to Entrapta, who was practically beaming.

“To tell the truth I wasn’t exactly sure which one of you I was going to hit!”

“Okay, that’s all good, we all made it,” Adora said with a sigh of relief. “We should see what we can gather from the dead tributes. Then we should retreat into the cornucopia so the Capitol can retrieve the bodies.”

“Good plan!” Entrapta said enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, all this stress has made me hungry,” Mermista added.

As the others made their way back into the cornucopia, Arkin turned to Adora, who had stayed behind, surveying the field. “Hey, that boy you killed is still in here.”

Adora froze. “Wh-- but I d--”  _ I didn’t hurt anyone _ , she wanted to say. But then she remembered that she actually  _ had _ . She  _ had  _ killed someone. The boy from District 5. She hadn’t even known his name. “Push him out,” she managed to say. The thought of having to touch the body herself, to move it, repulsed her. She was glad that the others would do it.

Adora heard movement behind her, and almost assumed a fighting stance, but there was only one person who could treat so lightly. “Hey, Adora…”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No,” Adora said, forcing a smile. “You’re fine, right?”

“Yeah. Just got some blood on my face. Thanks for saving my life back there.”

“It’s nothing.” But it was everything. To Catra, to Adora.

Maybe saving Catra’s life after taking another evened out her universal score.

“How many kills did you get?” Catra asked as they walked back to the cornucopia, where the others tended to mild wounds. They heard Entrapta talking about her strategy of hiding in the tree, to avoid dangerous tributes. “I was going to wait out the whole bloodbath,” she told them, “but then I saw the 8 girl run towards my tree and the 11 boy running for Mermista!”

“One.” Adora’s voice was raw.

“Oh, man, that’s a bummer,” Catra said. “Tell you what, when we go hunting tonight, I’ll ask the others to let you have a kill or two.”

Adora didn’t thank her. “How many did you get?” 

Catra didn’t even have to think about it. She answered with no hesitation, as if she had been counting as she stabbed and clawed and murdered. “Four.”

_ Four.  _

The girl she loved had killed four people. And she wanted to do it. She’d do it again.

_ She wants me to do it, too _ .

Adora was snapped out of her sickening thoughts when she heard the first bloodbath canon. She slumped against a crate inside the cornucopia. Everyone was silent as they counted: nine in all. It was actually a surprisingly low count for a bloodbath. And, all the kills had been by careers.

Scorpia had found some spare cloth in a crate, so they passed around pieces of it to clean weapons. Adora looked outside when she heard a humming noise, pulsing and loud. Entrapta stumbled forward to get a good look at the hovercraft, pulling out her recorder (so it was  _ definitely  _ her tribute token) to take notes on the Capitol technology.

When the hovercraft vacated the sky, vanishing into thin air, Adora breathed a sigh of relief. It was almost as if the hovercraft had erased all the events that had just transpired. They were in the past now, just like her old life. All that was real was the bored careers cleaning their weapons in the cornucopia, Adam and Arkin taking stock of their food and water supplies.

They split the supplies as evenly as possible. Entrapta found a methodic (and oddly mathematic) way to ration the food. Each tribute got two canteens of water; they would have to be refilled, for that was all they had. Each of them got a backpack, the spare ones gathered from dead tributes would be stuffed in a crate in the back of the cornucopia.

“In case anyone tries to raid our camp while we’re gone,” Scorpia said. “But I volunteer to stand guard when that happens.”

“Good,” Catra said. “Everyone got a good mix of supplies?”

They all nodded. Catra shifted her sitting position slightly, so that she leaned more against Adora. “We should go hunting tonight,” she told the careers. Adora looked to her. She couldn’t voice it, but she hoped that she wouldn’t have to be the one doing the killing. Catra had offered her the chance, and she wasn’t sure just how far Catra was willing to go to make sure Adora got the final hit. “Adora and I will lead the expedition.”

Catra looked to Adora, a soft smile playing on her features. Too soft a smile to be meant for murder fantasies. Adora tried to return the smile, but faltered.

Catra seemed to be good at wildly misinterpreting Adora’s feelings towards the Games, but Adora expected no less: Catra had no way to know what she was going through, how she was doubting everything in her life. “Adora, don’t worry. The two of us will be alright,” she whispered.

Honestly, Catra’s thoughts weren’t too far off of Adora’s own. Adora kept thinking of last night -- was it really just last night? It felt like a lifetime ago -- and her face would grow heated and her heart would pound and then she’d remember that no matter what happened here, only one person left alive. 

And as much as Catra loved Adora, Adora knew that if it came down to the two of them, she wouldn’t be leaving this arena.

“We’ll have to seperate at some point,” Adora told her. She felt her heart sink. Suddenly the moderate temperature of the forest felt icy cold, and that was when Catra leaned forward to kiss her.

All of Adora’s troubles melted away. It was just like last night. All that was real was her and Catra, Catra and her. The two of them. Lovers. Murderers. Did it matter? They had each other.

When they broke, Catra whispered in her ear. “We’ll stay together as long as possible in this arena, princess.” 

Adora ignored the others’ snickering.

“Because you promised,” Catra finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 15  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie, Kyle  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa


	7. Where's the Glory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 15  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie, Kyle  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa

As soon as the sun fell behind the forest’s horizon and stars twinkled in the sky, the Capitol anthem began to play. A flourish of trumpets got all of the careers’ attention, causing them all to flock to the mouth of the cornucopia and watch the sky intently for the broadcast.

“THE FALLEN” appeared in the sky in blue block letters, then faded to the first face.

The boy from District 5.

Adora’s heart stopped. A boy lunging at her with a knife. The give of flesh and bone as she pierced it with a blade. The sound of metal on metal as he collapsed to the ground.

Her first victim. And probably not the last.

She wished she could fight the desire to kill again, but it had been burned into her like a brand from such a young age. She  _ was  _ fighting it, she realized, her regret was proof of that. Every time she saw Glimmer and Bow, she wanted to fight it for some reason. But the desire was still so strong.

His face faded after a few seconds. Next were both the tributes from 6. The boys from 7 and 9. Rogelio from 10. 

Adora cast a discreet glance at Scorpia, who was sitting attentively. Her expression didn’t betray her indifference. He was her district mate, but she had had no problem fighting him.

The boy from 11, then both from 12.

Nine in all.

The Capitol seal flashed once again in brilliant blue, then it and the anthem dissipated, leaving only the cool night air and the melodic chirping of insects in the forest.

“When should we go?” Adora whispered, mostly to Catra.

The girl was still staring at the sky where it had shown faces. She looked at her nails again, scraping dried flakes of blood out from under them.

“I think now would be a good time.” She stood up, reaching for her staff, securing a full belt of knives around her waist. “It’s not too cold, but someone might still be idiotic enough to make a fire when it’s this dark and late. We could find them easily. Just listen for sound out there in the woods.”

“Maybe we should go in teams,” Entrapta suggested. “It will increase our odds.”

“Sure,” Catra agreed, though she seemed a little irked she hadn’t thought of it herself. “Scorpia will stay behind and guard the cornucopia as promised. Adam and Arkin can form a group. Seahawk and Mermista can go together. I’ll go with Adora.”

“You forgot me,” Entrapta piped up. “I’ll go with you two.”

Catra sighed, rolling her eyes.

Adora couldn’t decide if it would be better or worse to be alone with Catra out there. She wanted to spend time with her, but killing wasn’t exactly… romantic. Plus, Entrapta was smart and observant. She might be able to help them locate tributes better, which would make Catra happy. Maybe Entrapta would do the killing so Adora didn’t have to.

“She should come,” Adora said, squeezing Catra’s hand. At her lover’s skeptical look, she added, “what? Entrapta is smart.”

“Yay!” Entrapta enthused. “Let’s get going!”

 

. . .

 

During the daytime, the arena had appeared beautiful: its oddly-colored plants gave it a sense of peace, the blue sky above clear, save for a few fluffy clouds. At night, however, it was… different.

“UGH!” Catra groaned as the three girls came upon a wall of tangled plants again. “It’s like a maze out here.” She shuffled aside so Adora could slash the plants with her sword, allowing them to plunge on ahead.

“Yes,” Entrapta agreed, “and the plants are rather interesting. I wonder what creatures live here?”

“Keep your voice down,” Adora advised her, not exactly out of annoyance, but out of fear that it would anger Catra further.

“Where would anyone have even gone?” Catra mumbled. “Maybe Entrapta’s talking will attract targets to us.”

“No, I think making noise will scare other tributes away. Also, maybe we’re in the wrong part of the forest,” Adora mused, tapping her chin in thought. Then an idea struck her. “Entrapta, you seem good at hiding in trees. Can you climb up one of them and get a better vantage point? Let us know if you see a more navigable area, or a trace of any other tributes?”

“Well, I suppose so,” Entrapta answered with a shrug. Then she was scrambling up a purple-barked tree with large, flat round leaves. 

When Entrapta had disappeared into the foliage above, Catra stood closer to Adora and took her hand. Adora’s nerves made her first instinct to draw her hand away in surprise.

“Hey!” Catra said, eyes wide. “I was just trying to hold your hand.”

“S-sorry,” Adora said with a cough. “I’ve just… I’m on edge. A lot has happened today.”

“I guess you could say so. No need to be so nervous, though. We’re the ones with all the supplies  _ and  _ all the allies.”

“There are other alliances.”

“What I’m  _ saying _ , Adora, is that for someone who spent eighteen years waiting for this, you seem a little… out of it.”

Adora didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, Entrapta came sliding down the tree, landing softly onto a bed of leaves.

“I can see the cornucopia from here,” she told them, significantly quieter than she usually talked. “The forest directly around it is incredibly dense, but if we keep going forward, we’ll eventually make it to a more manageable area. There’s also a large river to the North that runs off some cliffs.”

“Great!” Adora said enthusiastically. “We should go forward, then?”

“Well, there’s actually a camp that way,” Entrapta said, pointing to Adora’s right.

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Catra scoffed. 

Adora cut through the foliage more, and in a few minutes, the three of them came upon a sort of cleared path, wide enough for an entire hovercraft. It branched off in multiple directions, a canopy of leaves and vines shielding them from the sky. It would seem, then, to the tributes who were camped about five yards in front of the three careers, that the light from their fire wouldn’t be visible to anyone from above, nor would it show through the wall of vines that they were behind. But Entrapta had spotted its smoke from above.

They skirted along the edge of the clearing until they were only a few feet away from the wall of vines. They were all quiet, listening for voices.

“...were you able to get a good view of the sky?” It sounded like Lonnie. Entrapta’s eyes went wide as she recognized the voice, no doubt from their earlier altercation.

“Yeah,” came another, fainter voice. Kyle? The boy from 8? “All the careers are still alive. But…” his voice quivered. “Rogelio didn’t make it.”

“Oh, no… Kyle, I was just hoping he had somehow gotten lost along the way.”

“I wish he were here.”

The sadness in Kyle’s voice made Adora’s heart sink. If Rogelio  _ were  _ still here, not slaughtered at the hands of Catra, he would be about to die anyway. But maybe it would’ve been better to die by his friend’s sides than alone during the bloodbath.

Catra clasped Adora’s shoulder gently, nodding to her.  _ Ready?  _ it said. Adora wanted to say no, but she could feel Catra start to move before Lonnie and Kyle could. She anticipated the jump Catra made, clawing at the vines, leaping into the District 8’s camp.

Adora slashed away the rest of the vines with her sword, running in after Catra. Lonnie and Kyle had a small camp set up, a feeble fire set in the middle. Catra was lucky she hadn’t leapt onto it, but she had missed both the tributes anyway. 

All around them was more thick foliage. Lonnie was smart, and knew that this meant it could give her a good escape route. “RUN!” She yelled to Kyle, who screamed, chasing after her.

They had hastily taken their backpacks.

“Give me your sword,” Catra said hastily.

“What?”

“I’m faster. I can catch them.”

Catra took Adora’s sword before she could protest. Adora turned to Entrapta, as if for an answer, but Entrapta was nowhere to be seen. “Entrapta!” She hissed. “Entrapta! Where are you!”

Entrapta or Catra. Frankly, she was more worried about Catra. The girl was reckless, and while she was definitely more skilled than any tribute from District 8, Adora had been sure that Lonnie had gotten away with a knife. She might be able to ambush Catra.

Adora dashed into the foliage. Stray leaves and twigs and vines whipped her face and caught her ankles, but she could see Catra up ahead, a blur of brown-haired motion, and hear Kyle’s frantic scream for Lonnie.

“Kyle!” Lonnie’s response sounded back, to Adora’s left. She turned, sword outstretched. A rustling followed, but it grew fainter by the second. She must’ve known Adora was there, and assumed she would get attacked.

Cackling laughter seemed to echo in Adora’s ears. She gasped and ran towards its source, recognizing it as Catra. Adora burst through the foliage in time to see Catra trip Kyle with her staff, before swinging it hard at his arm. Something cracked.

Kyle turned to Adora, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, but when he saw she wasn’t Lonnie, come to save him, he screamed out for her again.

Lonnie’s voice sounded again, but it was farther away now. She must’ve gotten disoriented in the forest.

Kyle tried to run, but Catra caught him by the ankle, digging her nails into his skin, drawing red lines. He groped along the ground for something to use, getting ahold of a large stick, swinging it at Catra. Reflexively, Adora swung her sword at it, deflecting it to the ground so that it couldn’t hit Catra.

Catra pinned Kyle to the ground, then turned to Adora. Adora stumbled backwards. Catra was almost unrecognizable. There was nothing behind her eyes, nothing but violence and hunger. “Come on, Adora,” she said through gritted teeth. “Lonnie obviously isn’t coming back for him. I was hoping we could get them both if she did.”

When Adora was silent, Catra went on. “I promised you could have the next kill, love.”

_ Love.  _ My love. Catra hadn’t even called her that while they kissed, while they lay together in Catra’s bed in silence after their escapade, perfectly peaceful to just have each other. And  _ now  _ she called Adora “love”.

“You go ahead,” Adora told her, trying not to shake as she forced the words out. “You deserve it.”

“Just do it, Adora,” Catra said, a little more forceful. “I’m getting tired. Just put him out of his misery.”

Adora knew that if she argued further, it would seem suspicious. And as scared as she was at this side of Catra, she still loved her. She wanted to be allies. Lovers. Because having Catra as an enemy would be so much worse.

Without a word, Adora sheathed her sword on her back. She bent down behind Catra, taking twin knives from her belt. She tried not to look Kyle in the eyes, but it was the only place she could look as Catra let go of one side of his body (the side with the injured leg, meaning he wouldn’t kick), letting Adora pin his arm instead.

Adora knew almost every way possible to kill someone. She would be a horrible career tribute if she hadn’t. She knew the slowest, most painful, torturous ways. But she also knew the quickest.

She positioned a knife on either side of Kyle’s neck, and before she delivered the killing blow, she whispered something to him, tears in her eyes. She moved her lips so little, made so little noise, that Catra and the cameras would be able to mistake it as her taking a deep breath before her kill.

“I’m sorry.”

Then she slid the knives through his skin, leaving a large red gash in his throat. It bled too fast for him to be able to live more than mere seconds afterward. The cannon sounded almost immediately.

Adora’s immediate reaction was to distance herself from Kyle’s body. She stood and stumbled backwards, dropping the knives to the ground.

“Adora?” Catra asked, standing. She took the flashlight from Kyle’s belt, leaving the pocketknife; his only belongings. 

“We need to go so the Capitol can retrieve him,” Adora said quickly. “I need to get out of here.”

“Adora!” 

She ignored Catra’s voice behind her, trampling her way back through the foliage.

Where was the glory? Where was the honor? Where was that golden feeling, that power? How did Shadow Weaver do it, how did Angella, how did  _ Catra  _ do it while still having a clear conscience?

Adora had always imagined that killing was something enjoyable, easy. And while it had been easy to her in action, it wasn’t in mind. She saw the boy from District 5, the way he fell to the ground like a doll. She saw Kyle’s blood spill all over the ground and her hands. She felt that warm metallic substance flood her lungs and drown her. It was suffocating. It wasn’t freeing, like the flight of a blade through air, slicing smoothly through cloth and foam. It was different; it cut flesh.

And she hated it.

She halted to catch her breath, struggling not to break down and cry. How the audience -- how  _ Shadow Weaver  _ \-- must hate her right now. The beautiful, valiant, vibrant girl from District 1, ready for the kill, reduced to anger and regret. Normally, when she was frustrated, she would punch something. But she had had enough violence for a lifetime now.

But at the same time, without killing, what was her purpose? What was she for? The parts of her that weren’t disgusted at her actions still longed to slit throats and pierce flesh. What else did she have left to live and fight for?

Then the answer came to her.  _ Catra.  _

It was all she had left. The gleaming light of hope in her heart told her to run back to Catra, to kiss her and fall into her arms as if they could stay together forever. As if they had eternity.

“Catra!” She yelled, not bothering to worry if anyone else heard. Catra was her world. Adora almost didn’t care if Catra delighted in murder and lusted in blood. She loved her. 

Adora turned to run back to Catra. But she wasn’t going back the exact same way she had come, and her foot slipped on a slick rock. The next few moments seemed to last an eternity. Adora registered the fear as soon as she began to fall, crashing through vines and tumbling down a dirt slope. Her head hit something hard, and she cried out. She lost consciousness as soon as her body came to a halt at the bottom of the slope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 14  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa


	8. Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 14  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa

Adora wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she woke up with a sharp headache and foggy vision. As soon as she registered two figures standing feet in front of her, she let out a moan -- meant to be a shout -- and tried to move her arms to unsheath her sword for the attack, but found herself unable to move. Her arms were tied to her sides with thick rope. Her sword wasn’t at her back, and there were no knives left at her belt.

With a blink, her vision seemed to clear. Sunlight streamed down from above -- it must have been day two, then -- and she spoke harshly to her captors. “Where am I? What do you want from me?”

“Shh!” A boy said to her. Quite an odd response, Adora thought, until she remembered that attracting attention here would be a bad thing for all of them. So she shut her mouth. She looked him over. He had dark skin and a puff of purple-black hair atop his head, a “3” on his chest. He was Bow. Which meant…

“You better start talking, career girl,” Glimmer said sharply.

“The name’s Adora.”

“Show her, Bow,” Glimmer said to her friend, ignoring Adora’s response.

“Right,” Bow said, standing up straighter. Glimmer turned her back to him, and he unzipped a compartment in her backpack to take out a flat, odd-looking device. It seemed to be the only backpack between them, though it seemed that Bow had a bow and quiver of arrows at his disposal while Glimmer had a few knives on her belt.

Glimmer turned back to Adora as Bow presented the device to her, 14 red dots on a green map. “I found this in the backpack I managed to swipe from the cornucopia yesterday when you let me live,” Glimmer said. “Why you let me live, I… still don’t really know. But Bow figured out what this is.”

“It’s a tracking device,” Bow explained. “Each of those red dots is a tribute. Kyle was the one who died last night. Before his cannon went off, there were 15 dots. I think it somehow picks up a signal from the trackers in our arms.”

All three tributes shivered at the memory of having the trackers injected into their arms. But the Gamemakers couldn’t risk losing a tribute somehow, and it appeared that this year, they had decided to give an advantage to whoever found Bow’s device. None of them had ever seen it in a previous Games.

“Why are you showing me this?” Adora asked skeptically.

“It doesn’t show us _ who _ the dots represent,” Bow continued. “But the cluster of three right here--” he held out the screen again, pointing-- “is us, of course. But in the center of the map, at the cornucopia, we presume, are the careers. Six of them. Yesterday, seven. Since you were there.”

“So I came up with a plan,” Glimmer said proudly, eyes gleaming. Adora quirked a brow at her. “Last night, you stumbled right into our little camp. We have your weapons and supplies, you’re bound with rope, so you won’t get away. We’re going to trade your custody for supplies from the careers’ camp.”

Adora laughed a little. “Really? You’ve watched these Games your whole lives. Careers are  _ famous  _ for their backstabbings and betrayals. They’ll kill all of us. None of them care if I live or d…” she trailed off, her eyes going wide.

“Glimmer and I, along with the rest of Etheria, noticed your soft spot for Catra, and her soft spot for you. We’re not entirely sure what’s going on there, but we bet that she’ll want you alive.”

“It won’t work,” Adora countered, though she wasn’t sure if she was right.  _ Did  _ Catra care about her that much? She had always assumed that, if it came down to the two of them, they’d have to fight. Catra loved her, yes, but Catra also loved the Games. What was a few days spent with a lover compared to a lifetime of glory? Getting rid of Adora early on would assure they wouldn’t have to face off later. But then again, maybe Catra wanted to be together as long as possible… “they’ll kill all three of us,” she said again. Then, something occurred to her. “Why didn’t you two just kill me? Surely that would’ve been less risky than striking a bargain with murderers. I’m literally your top competition.”

“ _ Catra  _ is our top competition.”

“If you let me live, the two of us will be your top competition  _ together _ .”

“We need the food and water,” Glimmer snapped. “There’s no way to tell which berries here are edible!”

It seemed logical enough, but there was a nervous shift to the District 3s’ movements that made Adora think there was more to their keeping her alive. That, even if they had wanted to kill her, they just… couldn’t.

The stunning display of such strong morals almost made Adora want to hug them. They had saved her life, even though they knew she might kill them later. It made her respect them as much as it made her hate herself. She had killed two innocent boys, and these two couldn’t even muster up the courage to kill a murderer.

Adora wouldn’t admit it, but from the moment she had seen them, she knew she couldn’t kill them, too. 

Adora knew that this deal was foolish. Bow and Glimmer could easily die, and so could she. There was no telling if Catra would take the bait. Her fellow careers might just kill  _ her _ , too. It was too dangerous a game to play, but then again, these were meant to be dangerous games. Everything that had happened the past few days -- even Catra and Adora’s love -- was just a game.

But something in Adora sang at the idea of seeing Catra again, at feeling her lips on her own.

“Fine,” Adora said. “I’ll go along with your deal.”

“Yes!” Glimmer squealed, jumping up and down before embracing her friend. “Mom must be  _ so  _ proud of me right now! Bow, where’s the nearest camera? I need to wave to her!”

“They’re  _ hidden  _ cameras, Glim…”

“You’re right. I’ll just wave in every direction!”

_ How career-like _ , Adora mused. But she decided it was merely Glimmer’s hope to appease her mother. Her feeling that her mother never let her do anything.

“That’s all good and fun, Glimmer, but can you at least tie me up in a more… comfortable position?”

“Like how?” Bow asked curiously.

“Hands in front of me.”

Bow motioned for her to stand up, and untied the ropes, cutting the length with a pocketknife and wrapping her wrists. Adora tugged at it, and found that he wasn’t that good at tying knots.  _ Good. If anything happens, I can break free fairly easily. _

“That good?” Bow asked.

“Yep. Not getting out of that. You guys got me good.”

“Enough chit chat,” Glimmer interjected. “I can lead the way. Bow, guard our little friend.”

“I’m your hostage.”

“Same thing.” Glimmer took the device in her hands, walking them out of the clearing as she and Bow gathered their supplies.

 

… 

 

Adora hadn’t exactly expected her captors to try and befriend her.

Well, one of them, at least.

“So… what was it like being raised in District 1?” Bow asked as they climbed over a fallen tree. Glimmer had made sure to stay a good distance ahead of them at all times. Curious, Adora had sprinted ahead to ask her about the device at one point, to which Glimmer ran ahead like her life depended on it. Adora was forced to stare at the District 3 girl’s back, where her own, shiny, beautiful sword now was… 

“Adora?”

“Huh?”

“Are you staring at your sword?”

“What? No! I was just thinking.”

“Well, uh, in District 3 there’s mostly just a lot of buildings and factories.”

Adora was silent. She wasn’t sure why Bow was trying to befriend her. Maybe he had nothing better to do, since it was clear that, however stupid a decision it was, Adora was completely complicit in their plan.

“So… ‘Adora’. Kind of an odd name for a career tribute.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda… fluffy? Nice?”

Adora laughed a little as they crunched over some leaves, Glimmer sighing up ahead and turning the device upside down as if it would help her. “I don’t think it’s that weird for District 1. If anything I think  _ Glimmer  _ is an odd name for a non-District 1 tribute.”

“Speaking of Glimmer,” Bow said, voice quieting, “she… told me that she saw you when she ran to the cornucopia. During the bloodbath.”

“Oh?” Adora tried to sound nonchalant, but her heart had started beating rapidly. 

“She told me she saw you, and she thought you would kill her, but… you didn’t.” He didn’t pose a question to her, but it hung in the air around them, closing around Adora’s neck like a vice.  _ You could have. Why not? _

“She caught me off guard,” Adora said curtly, looking away. It was a sorry excuse, but Bow didn’t press any further.

Eventually, they came upon another clearing, though this one was larger, almost as large as the cornucopia one. Glimmer slumped onto a log stump along the perimeter, dropping the device to the grass in front of her and sighing.

Adora had the fleeting, odd sense that she should go over and comfort the girl. But her hands were tied and Bow was already on his way.

“Glim, what’s wrong?” He asked. 

“I think we’re lost.” Glimmer said shakily, burying her head in her hands.

Adora watched the exchange from a distance short enough that it felt awkward but far enough that she still felt distanced.  _ It can’t be  _ that  _ hard to use…  _ she mused, but didn’t say it aloud for fear of angering Glimmer.

Adora heard a shuffling noise at the far end of the clearing, curious, she narrowed her eyes at the movement of rustling leaves. 

“Hey, uhh, guys,” Adora said, running over to them. “Check the device. I think someone’s there.”

Bow hastily took the device in his shaking hands. “We’re the only three here for a safe distance.”

“Then…” Glimmer started, standing. She unsheathed the sword --  _ Adora’s  _ sword! -- and struck a stance. “That’s not a tribute, is it?”

“Hopefully it’s just a bunny…?” Bow offered. But then a large, glossy green eye poked through the leaves. It blinked, and the rest of the creature’s many eyes emerged from the foliage.

It was a giant beetle muttation from the Capitol. It was over twice Adora’s height, and as soon as they all saw it, Glimmer froze, Adora took a step back, and Bow suppressed a scream.

Adora’s instincts kicked in immediately. “Give me the sword,” she said calmly to Glimmer.

Glimmer whipped around to look at her. “What?! No! You’ll just kill me and B--” but before she could finish her sentence, the mutt reached a long, green-armored leg, pinning Glimmer by her shirt sleeve and dragging her towards it, the sword tumbling uselessly to the ground in her wake.

“Glimmer!” Bow screamed. He went into action immediately, knocking an arrow to his bow. Adora rushed for the sword, crouching down by it and picking it up with her hands as best she could with her wrists bound. She heard the arrow lodge, and looked up to see the monster dangling Glimmer above its maw, now thrashing her around in the air, screaming from the pain of an arrow in one its many eyes.

Adora panted, trying to get the sword’s edge between her hands at just the right angle that it could cut through her ropes. It dropped to the ground again, causing her to groan in frustration.

Bow hit another of the mutt’s eyes, causing it to drop Glimmer. The girl ran for the sword immediately. But in a split second, Adora managed to sever the ropes, and with both hands on the cold steel hilt, she took a running leap at the mutt.

It picked her up the same way it had gone for Glimmer. But Adora expected it. She squeezed her eyes shut, felt herself leave the ground, and when she opened her eyes again, a third arrow whizzed below her, hitting the mutt in yet another eye. It turned towards Bow, barreling at its assailant.

And Adora saw her chance. She severed the spindly leg that held her, dropping to the hard surface of the mutt’s exoskeleton. And then she stood, burying her sword to the hilt in its brain.

It screeched again, flailed a bit, but eventually, lay still on the ground. Adora gasped, pulling out the sword, relieved.

And then Glimmer launched for her in a full-body attack. 

The two girls landed to the ground with a thud, the sword flying out of Adora’s grasp. She reached for it, indignant. “What are you doing?!”

“What are  _ you  _ doing!” Glimmer retorted, pushing at Adora’s face, trying to scramble free.

Bow swept in and took the sword. Adora glared at him, slipping out from under Glimmer, arms outstretched to retrieve her weapon. Glimmer caught her by the waist, looping her arms around her and throwing her to the ground. 

“Guys!” Bow yelled. “Stop fighting!”

“We’re supposed to fight!” Glimmer whined. “We’re in the Hunger Games, and I don’t want our hostage to get her sword!”

“Oh, so you admit it’s mine?” Adora grumbled.

“Just stop!” Bow yelled. 

The strain in his voice caused both girls to freeze. Glimmer’s eyes shone with regret. She stood in front of her friend, looking to the ground. Adora rose to her feet, brushing herself off, glaring at Glimmer.

“I can lead us to the cornucopia,” Bow suggested, making his voice level. “We can all agree that Adora kind of saved our lives right now, so… thank you, Adora.”

Adora just looked away.

“But Glimmer should keep the sword with her.”

Glimmer smirked. Adora didn’t even bother to try and stop her. She was more preoccupied with the knowledge that she had no saved Glimmer’s life not once, but twice. And Bow, now, too.

They continued on at the pace they had previously set. Without Bow trying to talk to her, the three of them were all silent. Adora could feel Glimmer’s nervous glances on her back, but she didn’t bother to turn and face her. She knew Glimmer must have been thinking about Adora’s life-sparing streak, too.

At a certain point, the sun began to lower. They couldn’t see it, but it was evident in the way the forest began to dim and the sky darkened and streaked with other colors. Adora didn’t protest Glimmer tying her hands again as they all found a little alcove shaded by leaves. Glimmer rifled around Adora’s backpack for a sleeping bag. Bow took out the blanket from his and Glimmer’s.

“I’ll take first watch,” Glimmer whispered. “Make sure no one finds us. And that Adora doesn’t try anything.” It was pointed, almost a threat. Bow gave Adora a weak smile.

Glimmer sat only a few feet away from them, gazing out into the forest. They could see the sky here, the three of them crowding to watch as the Capitol seal blazed to life above them. It vanished only a few seconds later. No dead tonight. The Capitol was probably satisfied with watching the tensions between Adora and the District 3 pair -- and maybe something else, somewhere in the arena -- to be sad at the lack of death for day two.

As Adora laid to sleep, she wondered if Catra was looking for her. Maybe she was going hunting again. Hitting things was the stress relief careers in District 1 were taught, maybe it was the same in District 2. In that case, Catra might be doing more damage than just a few punches tonight.

Adora found herself wishing Catra wouldn’t find anyone tonight. Not even Glimmer and Bow. She still wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did around them, like something was her fault, or why she found herself hoping that Glimmer thought she was pretty. They were weird feelings. She didn’t have time for them right now.

She just wanted to dream of Catra, the two of them happy and carefree. With nothing to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 14  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa


	9. The Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to update! I was very busy with school work, but I should be able to get back on a more regular update schedule now. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. :^)
> 
> Remaining Tributes: 14  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 4: Mermista, Seahawk  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 7: Perfuma  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa

Glimmer and Bow took turns being the one on watch, since neither of them trusted Adora. Adora couldn’t blame them, but still felt incredulous at the idea. 

When they woke to the light of morning, Adora found Glimmer digging around in one of the backpacks --  _ Adora’s  _ backpack. Maybe she was just cranky after what had happened, but her first instinct was to snatch the pack away from Glimmer. She only remembered that her hands had been tied again when she reached out for it, but it was too late.

Glimmer glared at her. Adora glared back, and for a moment, she remembered their encounter after the interviews. How suddenly haughty Adora had felt, how challenging Glimmer seemed.

“I was just looking for food,” Glimmer grumbled. Then, as a second thought, she added, “what? You guys had the entire cornucopia to yourselves and there wasn’t any food? I know you have something in here.”

It was a jab more at the careers as a whole, but it felt oddly personal. Accusatory. A wicked, selfish thought occurred to Adora. She had saved Glimmer’s life  _ twice  _ now. The least Glimmer owed her was some respect.

Bow peeked his head into the alcove, startling the both of them. “Hey, Glim, found any food?”

Glimmer pulled a box of crackers and some dried meat out of Adora’s backpack, rationing it out between them, making sure to save some for later. Then, she and Bow got up silently and left. Adora followed, not daring to speak, once again keenly aware of her own sword glinting on Glimmer’s back.

It turned out that they were closer to the cornucopia than they had anticipated. Or rather, that the path to it was suspiciously clear-cut, as if the Gamemakers had meant the arena to have a less-dense area tributes could use to their advantage. It sent shivers across their skin. A lifetime of watching previous Games told them that such a path was probably there to lead tributes back to the cornucopia when their numbers dwindled. The Capitol loved large final fights at the cornucopia; out in the open, the bloodshed was easier to see.

The cornucopia was a shining spot ahead no bigger than Adora’s fist. She had the urge to run to it, knowing -- hoping -- that Catra would see her and cut her free and kiss her.

“It looks like only four of them are there,” Bow said as they skirted the edge of the path. Leaves tickled their arms, and Bow kept giving nervous glances to the dark expanse beyond. The memory of the carnivorous bug incident was still fresh in their minds.

“Only four?” Adora asked tentatively, voice still cracking after going unused. It was the first thing she had said all morning. 

“That means Catra might not be there,” Glimmer pointed out, though it was clear she was talking mostly to Bow. Adora had been trailing behind the pair the whole time, only catching glimpses of the motion on their tracking device.

As Adora leaned forward to catch a peek, a sound rang through the arena. Glimmer and Bow jumped. Adora tensed. Because it wasn’t just any random noise, it was a girl’s strangled cry, loud and clear. The rest of the arena fell silent at her outcry.

Her voice drifted towards them from afar, muffled by distance. “HELP!”

Bow sprinted off immediately. 

“Wait!” Adora called after him. 

“Someone needs help!” Bow cried, notching an arrow.

Glimmer gave Adora a desperate glance, as if she too wanted to stop Bow. But she ended up trailing after him, only a short distance behind.

“It could be a trap!” Adora called after them. She sighed in frustration when neither of them stopped. She was helpless on her own. She didn’t have her sword, let alone a knife to cut her ropes with. Glimmer and Bow had all of her supplies. And they were her best bet at locating Catra. Realizing she didn’t have a choice, she bounded into the trees after them. 

Glimmer was fast. Adora had tried not to pay attention to the girl during training, so she had never had a chance to notice before. But at the cornucopia; the way she just appeared and vanished as if she had teleported, and now, dashing ahead in blurs of movement. This made keeping up with her hard for Adora, causing her to panic that she may never catch up. 

There was another scream; the same girl as before. Then came the canon.

Adora’s first and foremost thought was that it had been Glimmer or Bow, that they really had stumbled into a trap. Her second thought was that the fear she felt at the prospect was unfounded: it would be good for her if one of them died.

Adora crashed through a cluster of large leaves, something prickly scraping her ankle as she burst from the forest in a flurry of movement.

There were many things to take in at once. The forest ended in an abrupt wall of plants and trees, leaving Adora to stumble out into a land swathed in short grass, a slight incline towards the tumultuous river. There was no way that the waters were completely natural; they reached a height seemingly impossible and moved too fast. On the nearest shore, face streaked with blood, standing awkwardly on the jagged rocks, was Catra. A body was splayed on the rocks beside her, drops of river water speckling her already-freckled face. Adora immediately recognized her as the girl from District 7. There was a large gash at her throat.

Adora wanted to yell for Catra, to run for her. But from the corner of her eye, she saw the two other careers that had left the cornucopia. Seahawk was lunging for Glimmer, trident in hand. 

Glimmer stumbled towards Adora, fumbling with the sword at her back. Bow knocked an arrow, only to have Catra lunge for him.

Without hesitation, Bow reached into his backpack and pulled out a mass of rope. As he threw it into the air, it arced, splaying out. It was a net, and it landed directly over Catra. The weights at each corner dug into the dirt, pinning her in place. 

Adora looked to Catra, trapped. She looked to Bow, who knocked an arrow and aimed at Mermista, who seemed to be contemplating attack from the opposite bank, holding Spinnerella and Netossa hostage, the latter unconscious while Spinnerella was held in a headlock. 

And finally Adora looked to Glimmer, about to be impaled. 

She saw the boy from 5. Felt the warmth of his blood on her face. Saw the way his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp. Never to breathe again. And she imagined Glimmer like that, she imagined Bow like that, in all their kindness and sincerity and generosity, and she couldn’t bear it.

Nothing had ever been clearer to Adora in that moment. 

She had been fighting for the wrong side.

Glimmer tripped over a rock while running from Seahawk. While she was down, Adora sprinted to her, taking up her sword, slitting the bonds at her wrists. She felt the sturdiness of its power and ferocity in her hands, and channeled it into her blow.

The sound of metal-on-metal reverberated around the riverbank as sword met trident. Adora clenched her teeth with the effort before feinting to the side. Seahawk’s determination quickly gave way to recognition, and then disbelief.

“A-Adora?!” He stuttered. “We thought you were lost.”

What had gotten into her? This wasn’t what she was meant to do. She was meant to fight  _ with  _ the careers, not against them.

But fighting and killing the other tributes felt wrong. There was a certainty to Adora’s movements as she fought with Seahawk. It felt right. She was finally fighting the enemy.

“Leave them alone!” She yelled to him as their weapons clashed again. Glimmer watched on in awe from behind Adora, too scared to move.

“And why is that?!” Seahawk yelled.

“Because!” Adora roared. All her passion, all her doubts, all the emotion she had felt the past few days all sang out at once. She finally knew what she was supposed to do. It all made sense to her. “I won’t let you!”

“Adora?” Catra’s voice sounded from behind her. She had finally wrestled free of the net, but she did not go for Bow. She didn’t even go for Glimmer, helpless and trembling. She was walking straight for Adora, no weapons in her hands. “Adora!” Then she, too, along with everyone else at the river, took in the sight of Adora fighting Seahawk. “What are you doing?”

And that was when Adora faltered. Because she realized that it was either stay with Catra or fight for Glimmer and Bow, for tributes who deserved to win. She could not have both.

Before Adora could answer, something happened on the opposite river bank. Mermista screamed in agony, a knife protruding from her arm. Netossa had awoken, and stabbed her, so that Spinnerella could be released. It was hard to tell what exactly was happening, if it was Spinnerella or Mermista who had tried to throw a punch first, or whether it was even meant to be a fight. But whatever the case, Spinnerella screamed, and pushed Mermista towards the rocky shore of the river. 

“Mermista!” Seahawk bellowed, running for her. Her body tumbled, head cracking against a sharp rock on the way down, the canon sounding like a thunderclap, and then the river swallowed her.

Adora saw her chance. A part of her was excited, the part of her that had been carefully cultivated over eighteen years. The part of her that had finally bloomed, that realized the worth in every life, wept. 

But she knew, now. No matter who she fought for, there would have to be death.

And so she plunged her sword into Seahawk’s back.

Another canon. On the other side of the river, Spinnerella and Netossa held each other, Spinnerella’s face streaked with tears, knowing what she had just done. Then they ran.

Adora turned finally to Glimmer and Bow and Catra. The pair from 3 had shrunk back towards the forest, confused as to why Catra paid them no mind. Her eyes were trained on Adora.

“Catra…” Adora began, but the other girl cut her off.

“Adora…” Oddly enough, she was smiling. “Adora, you know it’s too early in the Games to be backstabbing other careers…”

“Catra, listen to me, that’s not what I did--”

“It sure looked like it.” Catra strode to her slowly. Adora didn’t move. “But it’s fine we got them out of the way.” When Catra stood only a foot in front of Adora, she took her hands into her own. Adora gasped at the familiar warmth of Catra’s calloused palms, not so much unlike her own. Adora melted into the sweetness of Catra’s eyes. “Adora, let’s get going.”

Catra yanked on Adora’s wrist, dragging her away from the fray. Adora stared, startled, at their clasped hands. And she tore her own away.

Catra turned to her, hurt clear on her features. “Adora?”

“Catra, listen. I love you. But we can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Be careers. Kill innocent people. It’s wrong. We’ve been manipulated our whole lives to think this is  _ right _ , but it isn’t.”

Catra just stared at her, dumbfounded. And then she laughed. A shrill, cruel, high laugh. “You just now figured that out?”

“What are you--?”

“Adora, of course this is wrong. These are other human beings! But you know what? This is just how it is. We can’t change that. All we can do is kill and fight and hope one of us wins. It doesn’t matter who we kill or who dies along the way as long as we’re together, Adora.”

Tears pricked Adora’s eyes. “Then join  _ me. _ Leave the rest of the careers behind, and we can work together. We can help Glimmer and Bow--”

“Help them?! You sound insane! Just come back to me! There is no helping anyone in this arena. I told you, one of  _ us  _ has to win.”

In her anger and hurt, Adora finally had the guts to ask the question that had eaten at her all along. “Then what does that mean you’d do if it came down to just the two of us?! Does that mean you’d kill me?!”

Catra took a step back, clearly hurt. But she was still angry, which to Adora seemed to suggest…

“So you’d kill me if it meant you’d win. Don’t you see Catra? That’s why I want to help Glimmer and Bow! Because they’re good people!”

“You’ve known them for what, a day, and you trust them more than me? Adora, I  _ love  _ you! I can’t believe you think I’d… that I’d kill you…” Catra turned away, stalking off. Adora didn’t bother to follow. “I  _ love  _ you, Adora. But it seems that that’s a mistake.”

And then Adora was left alone. Her arms went limp at her sides, the sword piercing the earth below. She leaned into the sturdiness of it, gazing at the ground, not quite believing what she had just done. And then she remembered that she wasn’t actually alone.

Glimmer sat down in front of her, eyes pensive, but not without kindness. “That was… brave. What you did just now.” Adora didn’t answer. She feared that if she did, tears would actually start to fall. “Did you mean it? What you said about me and Bow?”

Adora met Glimmer’s eyes, and felt an immediate warmth erupt in her heart. “Of course I did,” she whispered. Because for some reason, what she felt when she saw Glimmer’s smile was what she had felt when she kissed Catra.

Bow knelt down beside them, smiling too. “You’ve got some guts, Adora of District 1.”

“Thanks, but…” Adora looked down, taking a shallow breath. “I know you two don’t want me on your team. Only one person comes out alive. And I know you wouldn’t want it to be me. I should go.” She let go of the sword, and it fell lamely to the ground.

Glimmer reached for it carefully, holding it out to Adora. “You should keep it.” 

“We know it wasn’t easy to do what you did,” Bow said softly, putting a hand on Adora’s shoulder. “Fighting Seahawk and turning down Catra.”

 

“But I think…” Glimmer started again. “That maybe you’re here to protect us.”

_ Protect them _ .

Fight for the innocent. The ones who were too scared to kill in a game where to kill was to win. The ones who  _ deserved  _ to win, to walk free of the arena.

Adora took the sword and stood. Glimmer and Bow followed suit.

“I’ll protect you for as long as I can in the Games,” Adora said. And she meant it. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 11  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa


	10. Can't Save Them All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in so long... hopefully updates can come more frequently again. I don't know how many chapters will be left to go, but we are nearing the end!
> 
> Remaining Tributes: 11  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra, Arkin  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 5: Entrapta  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa

Glimmer, Bow, and Adora made camp at the edge of the forest after the hovercraft came to retrieve the dead. Adora volunteered to take first watch that night. She wanted to let her new teammates know that she was serious, that they could trust her. And to her surprise, they didn’t object.

Tired from the day’s fights, Glimmer and Bow went to sleep as soon as the sky went dark. Adora was the only one awake to watch the broadcast of the fallen; Mermista, Seahawk, then Perfuma. She gasped when she saw Seahawk’s face in the sky.

She had killed three people now. It felt natural and wrong at the same time. She wanted to, and yet she hated it. But Seahawk’s death felt different to her. Before, she had had a choice. She could have spared Kyle, even the boy from 5. But Seahawk had put Glimmer in danger. And for some reason, that made Adora more eager to fight than if she herself had been the one in danger.

Her whole life, she had been taught to fight for herself. That she was the only person that mattered, that killing other tributes in the Games was what she was meant to do, because it really was life and death. But now she had something else to fight for. 

She thought of the Reaping, how Angella had wept when she saw her daughter chosen. How scared Bow and Glimmer looked. And she remembered how easy it would have been for either of them to have killed her when they found her unconscious. She was the very person they  _ should’ve  _ killed: a career, a murderer. But they hadn’t.

There was a rustle behind her. Adora startled, turning around. Glimmer stood, dark circles beneath her tired eyes, magenta hair ruffled from sleep.

Adora’s body relaxed knowing it just her new ally. “Is it time to change the shift already?” She whispered.

Glimmer shook her head, sitting down in the grass next to Adora, resting her chin on her knees, hugging her legs to her body. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Adora wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she just nodded. Glimmer looked ahead, out at the river, which had calmed for the night. 

“Do you have a family back in District 1?” Glimmer asked quietly. She whispered it like it was forbidden.

“Not really,” Adora answered. “Shadow Weaver was the closest I had to family. And even then, she was more of a mentor than a mother.”

“Shadow Weaver?” Glimmer asked, shivering. She inched away from Adora, ever so slightly. It put a gross feeling in Adora’s heart, but she knew Glimmer had every right to resent her, to resent Shadow Weaver.

“Yeah,” Adora breathed. And then, because she had already betrayed so much of her past tonight, she spoke aloud what she had been too scared to say before. “I hate her.” It felt like a weight lifting off her chest. She imagined Shadow Weaver’s anger when she saw the broadcast. It would definitely be worth it.

“Did you always?”

“No. When I was young, I worshipped her. I was always scared of her, though. I still kind of am.”

“You learned everything you know from her.”

“I did.” Adora winced. Because they both knew what it was that she had learned.

“We…” Glimmer began, then paused, hesitant. Then she looked to Adora, tears welling in her eyes. “We were both raised by victors. Yet we had such different experiences.”

“What was it like for you?” Adora asked, almost expecting Glimmer not to answer, to get mad at her. But she didn’t.

“I’ve never really met victors’ kids before. Most of them don’t have kids if they can help it. They’re too scared their children will be chosen. But I was born months before my mom went off to her Games.”

“Who took care of you?”

“Bow’s dads. They’re friends of my mom. They were my dad’s friends, too.”

“I’m sorry.” Adora looked away as soon as she said it. “About your dad.”

“I never knew him. But I do wish he were here, sometimes. But you know how it is. Only one winner. I’m just lucky one of my parents made it out.”

_ Only one winner…  _ it left other words unsaid, hanging in the air. Neither girl was sure how to breach the subject. Adora might have wanted to help the two from 3, but what would she do if it came down to the three of them? Would she run away before it came to that? Did she really expect one of them to win?

_ Victory or death _ .

Glimmer went on before it became awkward for them. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I… I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You killed Seahawk. And I saw you kill the boy from District 5, too.”

“That was different. I just couldn’t kill you. Or Bow. Or anyone else who’s innocent here.” Sharp tears stung Adora’s eyes. She wiped them away before they could fall.

“You know, that’s how my mom felt,” Glimmer said softly. “I’m sure you’ve seen her Games. I’ve only watched them once. You know what she told me before I went to the Capitol?”

“What?”

“She told me, ‘do your best to come back to me. Do what you have to do. But don’t lose yourself along the way. Don’t kill if you don’t have to.’” There was a silence. Then, Glimmer added, “I don’t think she even expects me to come back. She knows I can’t do it.”

For some reason, that made Adora mad. “That’s not it. If anything, it’s not because she thinks you’re weak, it’s because she knows you’re kind. That if it came down to you and one other person, you wouldn’t want to hurt them, even if you knew it would get you home.”

“There’s no way to know what I’d do.”

“That’s true. If you had told me only a few weeks ago that right now, I’d have betrayed everything I’ve ever known, I wouldn’t have believed it. But I can sense…  _ something  _ about you and Bow. That your hearts are good.”

Glimmer was just silent. It was not a cold, uncomfortable silence. It had a sort of warmth to it, a comfort that Adora had never felt before.

“What do you plan to do, Adora? You don’t expect me to believe you don’t actually want to win anymore.”

It would be the valiant thing to do. To sacrifice herself so that Bow or Glimmer -- or some other poor tribute -- could win. When it came down to it, so many people in the arena, those who had already died and those who still remained, deserved to go home. It wasn’t fair. And Adora knew that she couldn’t do anything to change this, just like Catra had said. In the end, it was a system beyond their control, one that they were born into and one that would control them till the grave. So of course Adora wanted to survive this. She had been born and bred to survive this.

“I…” with all of those thoughts in her mind, Adora found herself at a loss for words. She looked to Glimmer, staring into her deep purple eyes, before turning back to Bow, who now sat on his sleeping bag, not even bothering to pretend to still be asleep. She knew she should just tell them the truth -- tell them all of the thoughts that had been swimming in her mind. But she found it so hard to articulate; the ideas almost too abstract. “I don’t know.”

“We understand if you want to leave us at a certain point in the Games,” Bow said almost sympathetically. 

“No, I want to stay with you two for as long as I can,” Adora said, frustrated with herself. There was no reason to deny her heart anymore, even if her heart was stupid and reckless. Better that than the heart of a remorseless killer. She’d rather die a hero and a friend than an arrogant murderer. “I’m going to help one of you win.”

“You realize that sounds insane, right?” Bow asked, stunned.

“We can’t let you do that,” Glimmer added in a whisper. “We can’t let you die for us.”

“Why not?” Adora asked, voice cracking. A small, incredulous laugh bubbled in her throat. “I already have blood on my hands. I’ve been trained to fight and kill and survive, while you two were thrown in here with no defenses. I was trained for this…”  _ I was trained to die.  _

There was no way she was actually ready for it. But maybe when the moment seized her, when the golden light cascaded over her, she would just know. Maybe then, she would be able to accept it.

Bow and Glimmer looked to each other, concerned. Adora almost regretted her offer. She should have just made true of it without ever telling them. Let whoever wins finally realize it after the Games are over.

“We’ll let you stay with us, and… protect us,” Glimmer said with a sad little sympathetic smile.

“But we don’t want you to  _ die _ for us.”

“You might not be able to control that.”

“We can split up when the numbers get low. Adora, you did something brave,” Bow said gently. “You’re still being brave just by deciding to help us. You’re our friend.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes,” Glimmer said.

“And friends don’t let friends die for each other,” Bow said. “Friends protect each other equally. Which means we’ll be looking out for  _ you _ , too.”

 

. . .

 

The three friends were awoken the next morning to the sound of a canon.

It brought such an abrupt end to Adora’s dreams that she almost didn’t recognize the canon as being reality. She scrambled to her feet in an instant, sword in hand, turning in a circle to scan for any threats.

Bow had scrambled awake as well, immediately going for their tracking device. “Woah, woah, it’s okay, Adora, it’s okay,” he said. 

Adora breathed a sigh of relief. “Did you see where they were?”

“It looks like it was… one of the careers,” Bow answered, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“What?” Glimmer interjected groggily. Her hair stuck up at odd angles, and she rubbed her eyes lazily. Adora felt an odd feeling bloom in her chest, her cheeks heating. Glimmer looked… cute.

“Maybe the careers were inspired by your leave,” Bow said. “Maybe they’re backstabbing each other already.”

“It’s still fairly early in the Games for that,” Adora said, thinking. “Are they still at the cornucopia? Maybe there’s a threat. A Gamemaker threat.”

The three shared a silent, tense look of understanding. They had already encountered the giant beetle; an obviously Capitol-engineered creature, meaning Gamemaker threats were already present in the arena. 

Bow glanced at the tracking device again. “It looks like they’re leaving the cornucopia.  _ Fast _ .”

“Where are they going?” Glimmer asked. 

“They’re running this way. For the river.”

Adora immediately leapt into action. “You two run. Make sure to stick together. I’ll take up the rear and protect in case someone follows us.”

Bow and Glimmer looked to each other, hesitating for a moment, as if unsure whether or not to take Adora up on her offer. But once they saw the determination on her face, they nodded to each other. Then they sprinted off into the forest. They made sure to stick to a less dense section so that it would be possible to keep track of each other. Adora made sure to stay a few feet behind, sword drawn the whole while, glancing behind her to make sure they weren’t being followed. The coast seemed to be clear.

Then Adora heard a scream from up ahead. A scream that sounded too familiar.  _ Glimmer _ . She panicked; channelled that panic into determination, and ran for the source of the scream. She collided with something, causing her to grunt in surprise and fall onto her back. 

“Adora!” It was Bow. “Adora, I’m so sorry-- they have Glimmer.”

“What?” Adora asked, rising to her feet again. 

“There was a trap!”

Adora shoved aside plants and leaves and ran forward, Bow close behind. They emerged into a clearing, where they saw Glimmer. She sat on her knees with her arms held out to her sides, pinned in place by a sparking red electrical current. She looked to Adora and Bow when they showed up, her eyes going wide. She made a movement to try and come to them, but the electricity jumped across her skin, causing her to cry out in pain.

“Glimmer!” Bow cried.

A familiar figure slid down the nearest tree, goggles over her eyes. Bow looked to the tracker. “It’s the career who followed us,” he hissed.

“Entrapta?” Adora asked indignantly.

“Adora?” Was the girl’s reply. She slid her goggles up her head. “It seems my trap worked.”

“You let her go!” Adora yelled, brandishing her sword.

Entrapta’s eyes widened in fear. Adora’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to hurt Entrapta. While they had been allies, Entrapta had been weird, yes, but she had also been kind. So Adora wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she meant to actually kill her when she charged.

Adora pinned Entrapta to the tree, her sword merely a hair away from the girl’s throat. Entrapta’s eyes went wide with something between fear and awe.

“Disable the trap,” Adora said sternly. She knew that while Entrapta was with the careers, she wasn’t cruel. She suspected that Entrapta was with them solely for her own protection. And she’d rather let Glimmer go than die by Adora’s hand. So her hand fumbled by her side. Adora looked down briefly as Entrapta pressed a button. Glimmer let out a gasp as she tumbled to the ground, Bow catching her at the last second and helping her up.

Adora could feel everyone staring at her. She knew that she should kill Entrapta. It was one less competitor, and she was definitely dangerous. But she found herself letting go, taking her sword slowly away. Somehow, she knew that Entrapta wouldn’t strike at her. She knew it in the same way she knew Bow and Glimmer would never try to hurt her. 

“Adora!” Bow screamed. “Look out!” 

It all happened in a blur. Adora turned around, guard down, just in time to see Lonnie barrelling towards her with a knife in her hands. “You!” She yelled to Adora. “You killed Kyle!” Without thinking, Adora leapt out of the way, tumbling to the ground. As she groped for the sword, she yelled to Glimmer and Bow. “Run!”

As she darted past, she saw out of the corner of her eye what her retreat had done. Lonnie could not stop herself from tumbling towards Entrapta, who barely had any time to move.

Should she have gone back and helped Entrapta? Should she apologize to Lonnie? No matter what she thought of doing, she had tears in her eyes as she ran. There was no situation here that was virtuous, she decided. No matter what, she couldn’t save everyone. She couldn’t undo what she had done.

When the three of them stopped to rest, they heard a canon. Adora’s gut twisted, and she suddenly felt nauseous. She told herself it was just hunger, and chewed mindlessly on some of the dried meat from her backpack, dreading whichever faces she’d see in the sky tonight.

 

. . .

 

They were all still awake. They wanted to know who had died that day.

When Adora saw the words “DISTRICT 2” flash in the sky, she gasped, worried that it had been Catra. But it wasn’t. Arkin’s cold glare gazed down at her from the sky; his final farewell to a Game he thought he could win. 

And then, more painful, was “DISTRICT 5”. Entrapta.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” Adora mumbled as soon as the anthem faded.

“I can take first watch,” Bow suggested.

Adora turned on her side, facing away from her teammates. She sighed. The night seemed colder than the others had been.

“Adora?” Glimmer whispered. Adora didn’t turn over to see her. “Adora, what’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Adora answered. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, and she knew Bow would be listening, not wanting to miss out on another opportunity to comfort his friends.

But it seemed that right now was Glimmer’s time to comfort. Adora suddenly felt a weight at her back, an arm slinging around her waist. She gasped, her skin coming alight where it contacted Glimmer. Her touch was hesitant, but warm and kind. It made Adora feel… loved. How she wished she could still feel with Catra. “I miss her,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “Catra. I still miss her.”

“That’s understandable,” Glimmer whispered into Adora’s hair. It made Adora’s head fuzzy and her cheeks warm.

“I can’t save them all.”

“I know.”

For some reason, it was Glimmer’s acceptance of this simple fact, her resignation to the truth that calmed Adora. Bow’s reassurance and hopefulness were comforting, but there was something sturdy in Glimmer’s words.  _ I know _ . It let Adora know that she was right. She couldn’t save everyone. So she didn’t have to try.

Suddenly, she found herself with the urge to turn over and kiss Glimmer. But instead, she just put her hand over Glimmer’s, and whispered, “thank you,” before falling to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 9  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa


	11. I Hope You're Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lack of updates! I was having a bit of writer's block but I should be good now. Also, this is the chapter where the Glimadora really starts! ;^)
> 
> Remaining Tributes: 9  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 10: Scorpia  
> District 11: Netossa

The next few days slowed down. Adora wasn’t sure what could be keeping the audience in the Capitol satisfied in terms of bloodlust, because there were no deaths for a span of about three days. Maybe it was her alliance with the pair from 3, and their growing friendships.

When the group found themselves without food, a parachute came from the sky, chiming faintly. It fell directly into Adora’s hands, a green “1” painted onto the canister. Inside were three loaves of bread. Something similar happened when they found themselves out of clean water. Always addressed to Adora; always stamped with a “1”. Adora feared that it would somehow make Bow and Glimmer suspicious, knowing that those in the Capitol liked Adora enough to address gifts for the three of them to her. But they were more focused on the fact that they were being fed for another few days.

Adora slipped easily into the cadence of Bow’s friendship. He was kind and supportive. He recognized Adora’s past while still letting her know that her future would be different, better. He was easy to get along with, and he was endlessly loyal to Glimmer, which brought a smile to Adora’s face. 

Adora found it harder to know how to act around Glimmer. She found herself staring at the way her lashes kissed her round cheeks when they talked, or the concentrated look she got when they stared out at the forest together. Most of all, Adora wanted to touch her. She wanted to hold Glimmer’s hand or kiss her. She could almost begin to forget Catra, that they had ever loved each other. When Glimmer tripped, it was Adora who was there to catch her. When Adora felt sad, Glimmer was there to put a hand on her shoulder, and tell her without words that it was going to be alright, if only for a little while. Because things would get worse and worse, but Glimmer would be there.

One night, the three found themselves crouched under a giant fallen log for shelter, lying on their backs and staring at the starry sky to see who was the victim of the canon they had heard earlier in the day. Adora knew her full attention should’ve been on the sky, but she kept thinking about how her and Glimmer’s shoulders were touching as they huddled together under their blanket. The nights had been getting colder and colder, so Adora and Glimmer would huddle together under the blanket while Bow stayed warm in his sleeping bag.

“DISTRICT 10” flashed in the sky beneath the portrait of Scorpia. Adora began to wonder what it was that had taken her down. Could it have been one of the other careers? A natural death? A wound?

“There’s only eight of us left,” Glimmer whispered when the anthem faded. Adora turned to her, breath hitching in her throat when she met Glimmer’s soft gaze. She could stare into those eyes all day. She could drown in them, and she would love every second of it.

“They’ll interview our families soon,” Glimmer continued. Bow’s soft snores sounded from behind Adora, and for a second, it felt like it was just the two of them, suspended in time. Just like how she had felt with Catra, but there was something different about it this time. Something lighter and warmer and sweeter. She felt all the same passion for Glimmer she had felt for Catra, but loving Glimmer still felt so different.

“Adora?” Glimmer asked lightly, brows creased. Adora’s hands lay tucked beneath her head, and Glimmer reached a comforting hand towards her wrist, and when they touched, Adora was gone. She didn’t care that Bow was lying only a few feet away, or that she was probably going to die soon. She propped herself on an elbow, leaning over Glimmer, blonde hair spilling down into her vision as she cupped Glimmer’s cheek in her palm, running her thumb over the smooth, golden skin.

And then she got scared. She was afraid that Glimmer didn’t want this. Why would she? They were friends now, sure, but what could Glimmer see in her? Right then, in all her doubt, Adora began to wonder if all Catra had ever seen in her was the ruthless killer, and it was their bloodlust that fueled their relationship. And there was no way Glimmer could ever love anyone like that.

Out of all the things in the arena to be scared of, Adora was most frightened of Glimmer’s rejection.

So she hesitated, her breaths heavy with nervousness. 

It was Glimmer that closed the space between them, pulling Adora gently down by looping her arms around her waist. Glimmer’s kiss was soft and sweet. It was not short but it was not long. They broke apart for a moment, and it was only once they were apart that Adora realized how much she wished to do nothing but melt into Glimmer.

Glimmer stared at Adora like Adora was new, like she was the stars made flesh. She ran a hand down Adora’s cheek before pulling her back down.

Adora wanted to stay like that forever. She forgot about Catra and death and the Games. It was all replaced with Glimmer. For a second, she was everything.

“Gross you guys.”

Adora gasped and whipped her head around to Bow. He was smirking, but blushing. Glimmer’s face went red. 

“Y-you’re awake,” Adora commented. “I thought you were… asleep.”

Bow shook his head. “Someone has to keep watch. You two should just go to sleep.”

The girls considered this for a moment. With her elation having gone, Adora’s mind gave way to exhaustion. She looked to Glimmer, scared that somehow, she would say no to this, that she didn’t want to sleep next to Adora. 

But she didn’t, and so Adora lay down behind Glimmer, slinging an arm over her waist to pull her close. It ignited fire under her skin again.

“Goodnight, Adora,” Glimmer whispered.

“Goodnight, Glimmer.”

 

. . .

 

Adora wasn’t entirely sure what had happened between her and Glimmer, but a tension seemed to have eased between them. She began to realize that Bow and Glimmer really  _ were  _ her friends, and Glimmer might be something more. And somehow, Adora no longer felt like she was betraying Catra by loving Glimmer.

It was the middle of the day when the announcement came on. The three had just sat down to eat when the blare of trumpets flurried to life. They all looked around as if they would be able to see its source, even though they knew they couldn’t.

“Congratulations on making it to the final eight.” It was Castaspella’s voice that greeted the tributes. “Tonight, at sundown, there will be a feast at the cornucopia. There will be something waiting there for each of you. It is highly recommended that you attend, for you may later find yourself in dire need of what you did not get. As always, happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

As soon as the announcement had finished, Adora’s blood ran cold. Her training had of course taught her extensively about feasts and the ways they worked. She knew of all the different items that may be there, and strategies for showing up to the arena event. But with her current alliance, she knew that everything she had learned went out the window.

If she went to the feast alone, Bow and Glimmer would be left vulnerable. If they all went, Bow and Glimmer could  _ die _ . If they didn’t go at all… they just had to hope that Castaspella was wrong. That having whatever awaited them at the cornucopia would  _ not  _ be a matter of life and death.

“Adora and I can go,” Bow declared.

“No!” Adora said immediately. Glimmer’s body tensed beside her. “I mean… you shouldn’t. You and Glimmer can’t go. You could easily die. Everyone else will be there.”

“But you’ll be alone,” Glimmer said.

Adora didn’t have the mindset to bother wondering why Glimmer cared about that so much. Right now, all she cared about was finding an answer to this predicament. 

None of them knew what to do. Adora wouldn’t let Glimmer go; Bow knew that, but he didn’t seem to understand why she didn’t want  _ him  _ to go. “I have a long-range weapon,” he reasoned. “If someone troubles you, I can… shoot their ankle or something.”

“You could easily be found in a tree by the right person,” Adora countered.

They were silent. It seemed there was only one viable course of action.

Adora didn’t like the idea of leaving Bow and Glimmer behind, even though they had their own weapons. Bow gave Adora the tracking device so that she could easily find them, but she committed their hiding spot to memory anyway: an alcove formed by a fallen log and a ditch. There, they would make shelter and wait out the night. When Adora was returning, she would make a bird call, so that they would know it was truly her. 

And Adora sacrificed herself to do the hard part.

It was agony, just waiting out the day. Adora left far before the feast would begin, since she knew she’d need time to get there. Glimmer went with her without a word while Bow set up camp.

For a long while, the two girls were silent, trekking through the woods. Adora kept glancing at the tracker. It gave her an advantage, but her heart sank and her nerves sang as she watched the converging tributes.

“I know she’ll be there,” Glimmer said, almost startling Adora. 

Adora didn’t need to ask to know who Glimmer was talking about. “I know.”

“I hope you don’t have to face her,” Glimmer said softly. She tightened her grip on Adora’s hand. “I know she means a lot to you. Or used to. I’m not really sure.”

“She did,” Adora responded, the words tumbling out before she had time to regret them. “But you mean so much more.”

They stopped in their tracks. They turned to face each other, Adora’s heart heavy with the ever present fear that Glimmer would reject her, that she did not love her. That she  _ couldn’t _ .

“You… really mean that?” Glimmer asked, almost a whisper.

Adora nodded.

Glimmer leaned forward, putting her hands on Adora’s shoulders, and stood on her toes to press their lips together. It was quick, but not without passion.

Glimmer then wrapped her arms around Adora’s waist, leaning her head against her chest. Her whole body seemed to tremble, so Adora held her tightly. “I know you’ll come back,” Glimmer said. “I just know you will.”

Adora ran a hand through Glimmer’s poofy hair, lost in the feeling of being so close to her, of just holding her. And she knew she couldn’t afford to lose this feeling, so the only answer she could think of was, “I hope you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remaining Tributes: 8  
> District 1: Adora, Adam  
> District 2: Catra  
> District 3: Glimmer, Bow  
> District 8: Lonnie  
> District 9: Spinnerella  
> District 11: Netossa


End file.
